


Legacy

by Izzyaro (Isilarma)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Harry Potter is Salazar Slytherin, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-01-06 23:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18398618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isilarma/pseuds/Izzyaro
Summary: Salazar Slytherin did not have an easy life, and he finally died alone after an argument with his dearest friends. Then he was reborn. Somehow. But life as the Boy Who Lived might be too much even for him. At least he doesn’t have to do it alone.





	1. Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t abandoned ‘Strange Visitors’ but I have hit a massively block, so I thought I’d share this in the meantime. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Harry Potter woke up two weeks before his ninth birthday and decided he was going to leave home.

This in itself wasn't particularly unusual. Harry, like many young boys, had often thought about leaving home. After all, being able to go wherever they wanted, without anyone telling them what to do, was the dream of many children.

Harry Potter probably thought about it more often than most though. He thought about it whenever his uncle shouted at him, or whenever his aunt sneered at him. He thought about it when his cousin and his gang chased him so they could try to stuff his head down the toilet, and whenever his teachers looked at him with vapid expressions of pity.

In short, Harry Potter had thought about it nearly every day for the past seven years.

The difference between Harry and all the other children with similar dreams was that Harry was perfectly capable of carrying making his dream a reality.

Harry had been planning his escape for a long time, but recent events had forced his hand. It wasn't unusual for Harry to get far better reports from his teachers than his cousin Dudley. It also wasn't difficult, considering Dudley had the intelligence of a juvenile rabbit, but for some reason Vernon and Petunia had never gotten used to it. They had taken to ignoring it after even their most severe threats failed to get Harry to dumb himself down, but this year they couldn't ignore the rather pointed note attached to Harry's report from his headmistress. Miss Pevensie was old but she wasn't stupid, and she wasn't blind enough to miss the differences between loud, spoiled Dudley and his little ghost of a cousin. Harry had been sent to his cupboard the second Vernon had seen the letter, but his uncle's shouts about child services and reports of abuse had been impossible to ignore.

Harry didn't care. Maybe the authorities would help, but they never had before and he had no intention of taking his chances.

So the next morning, Harry decided that enough was enough. He left his schoolbooks behind, instead packing the few tolerable clothes he possessed into his small rucksack. There was nothing else he cared to take; everything he owned had been broken by Dudley before being passed on to him. He dressed in his school uniform, and looked round his cupboard for the last time.

Really, Harry hadn't had to stay in the cupboard. Young as he was, there were plenty ways he could have persuaded or intimidated his relatives into giving him Dudley's spare room. In the end though he hadn't bothered with the effort. He had never been planning on staying long, and the less the Dursleys knew about what he could do the better. More importantly, the less the other authorities knew about his abilities the better.

Harry wasn't stupid. He might know very little about how his world worked in this time, but no society would be so idiotic as to leave children with their power unsupervised. Any intentional displays of magic would undoubtedly attract attention, and that would lead to questions that Harry had no desire to answer.

For example, how he knew about magic at all.

Harry snorted softly. That question alone could cause utter chaos. Much better to wait until he had more information

A sharp rap on the door woke Harry from his thoughts.

"Hurry up, or you'll be late, boy."

Harry's lip curled, but he opened the door without comment. Petunia sneered down at him. "You've missed breakfast, but that can't be helped. We're leaving now."

Harry said nothing. He just met her pale blue eyes with his green ones until the sneer faded into something more uncertain. Petunia's lips thinned, but instead of scolding him, she just shook her head sharply. "Don't be late."

She hurried Dudley out the door with far more haste than normal, and Harry was gratified to see a gleam of fear and confusion in her eyes as she glanced back over her shoulder. Then the door slammed shut and Harry was alone in the house.

Vernon hadn't been happy, but after Dudley threw four tantrums in a row about the freak walking into school with him, he had agreed that Harry would leave five minutes after Dudley and Petunia each morning. Harry hadn't particularly minded; any time away from Dudley was fine by him, and he had been amused by how quickly the teachers picked up on their unusual situation, but he appreciated the arrangement now.

It was tempting to leave a suitable farewell for the Dursleys, but Harry resisted the impulse. He wanted as good a head start as he could get before the chaos started. Not that it really mattered, considering where he was going, but it would draw things out for his charming relatives. Instead, Harry headed up to the attic.

One of the first things Harry could remember was Petunia telling him never to go into the attic. Naturally, it was one of the first things Harry had done, once he was strong enough. The place was full of Vernon and Petunia's rubbish, but there were a few items of interest. Harry shoved a stack of Dudley's old pre-school work out the way until he spotted the box of dusty photo albums poking out from under a bag of old clothes. He was keen to leave as soon as possible, but he had never been able to resist the urge to take a look.

Harry carefully picked up one of the more faded albums and opened it. Two smiling Muggles beamed up at him, and Harry felt his own lips twitch up. The photo was in black and white, but he knew from other photos that his grandmother's eyes were exactly the same colour as his own. Both of his grandparents were blond though, so Harry's hair colour had presumably come from his father's side. That was all Harry knew about his father, but he pushed that thought to one side. There would be information about him somewhere, and Harry had no intention of stopping until he found it.

Reluctantly, Harry set that album aside and found the more recent ones. These ones were all in colour, and there was a familiar tightness in Harry's chest as he looked at his mother's face. If he hadn't found these photos, Harry wouldn't even have known her name. He thanked every god he knew that someone had recorded the date and people present on the back of each photo. There were some of Lily and Petunia as small children, sometimes with a tiny wrinkled old woman who Harry assumed was his great-grandmother, and then there were some of Lily as a young lady, laughing and carefree, with her whole future before her.

Harry's fingers trembled as he traced his mother's face. What had happened? He knew absolutely nothing about their lives. He didn't know why they had met their deaths by the Killing Curse, if that was the green light in his nightmares was, or why he had been placed with people who might be his blood relatives but still loathed him simply for who he was. He didn't know why none of their friends had ever tried to check on him.

Harry didn't have answers to those questions. But he was going to find out.

For now though, he had wasted enough time. He raided the albums for his favourite pictures, and placed the photos carefully in a plastic wallet he'd taken from Dudley's school supplies. He needed them more than Petunia did. Harry cast a final quick glance round, then settled his rucksack more comfortably on his shoulders and closed his eyes.

It wasn't the best idea he had ever had. Apparition was tricky even for a grown wizard. Harry remembered all too vividly the last time he had tried it at this young age, but he forced the memories away with a shudder. Thinking about that wouldn't help. He was tempted to wait a few more months, just to let his magic stabilise, but he dismissed the thought almost immediately. The situation with the Dursleys had become intolerable, and Harry knew he could do this. He had before after all.

So Harry Potter summoned up all the magic he possessed and concentrated on the one place he could truly call home.

There was the familiar awful-wonderful twisting wrenching bending stretching sensation then Harry landed on cold stone and his mind burst into song.

' _Welcome home, Salazar!"_

Salazar Slytherin, founder of Hogwarts, now nearly nine year old Harry Potter closed his eyes and let the magic of Hogwarts surround him. Wards wrapped around him as easily as if a day had passed rather than a thousand years, and tears fell unheeded as Hogwarts' love and respect soothed his battered mind and soul.

' _Thank you,_ ' he finally managed. ' _It is good to be home.'_

Hogwarts seemed to hum louder, and for a minute Harry let himself just bask in the warmth of her welcome. It had been so long since anyone had treated him with more than wary pity.

But there was something he had to know.

_'Have any of the others been here?'_

There was a heavy sigh and Harry's heart sank even before the soft whisper sounded. _'Only you.'_

Harry drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Where could they be? He couldn't do this without them. He rubbed fiercely at his eyes and tried to think. He had made no plans to be reborn after his death, and he wouldn't have had time to carry out any rituals anyway, considering the nature of his demise. That meant that someone, be it a god, the fates, or even magic itself, had intervened.

Whoever it was, they had to have brought the others back too. Harry didn't know what was going on, but he did know that he couldn't do it alone. He needed his family.

But if they weren't here, where were they?

 _'They may not be old enough,_ ' Hogwarts pointed out. _'Witches and wizards do not come here until they are eleven now, and you are younger than that.'_

Harry sat back and nodded. _'You're right. I just hope they get here soon._ ' If they didn't... His mind shied away from the possibility.

 _'The new school year starts in six weeks,_ ' Hogwarts offered. _'One or all of them might arrive then.'_

 _'I hope so,'_ said Harry quietly.

Hogwarts wrapped his mind in another gentle hug, and Harry leaned into the contact. _'You are not alone, Salazar. You will never be alone.'_

Harry smiled. He knew he was right. He took a deep breath, then got to his feet. He couldn't sit around waiting for his friends for the next six weeks. He might be only a child, but there was still plenty he could do. Especially here in Hogwarts.

There was one immediate matter to deal with. _'What happened in here?'_

Harry had decided to land in the Chamber of Secrets out of sheer practicality. He hadn't been sure when the holidays for Hogwarts would be, and hadn't wanted to risk landing in the middle of a crowded corridor. As the Chamber was hidden, and sealed to any but a Parselmouth, it had seemed the most suitable location.

Which it was. It was also half flooded with water.

 _'Ah,'_ said Hogwarts. There was a clear note of embarrassment in her voice. _'Well, things got a little complicated when the Muggles invented plumbing. One of Selene's descendants had to rework the entire system.'_

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. _'Right. I'll deal with that later. What about Issa?'_

 _'She is well,_ ' Hogwarts assured him. _'But she is very old, and sleeps a great deal.'_

Harry smiled. _'I'm not surprised. I'll wake her once I settle in.'_ He looked around and sighed _. 'Looks like I'll be staying in the Room of Requirement after all.'_ He would make time to come down and visit Issa later, and he would also have to make sure his wards on the rest of the Chamber had held. There were things down here that were never meant to see the light of day again.

But that could wait for another day. Harry climbed to his feet, picked up his rucksack, and willed himself to the Room of Requirement.

Harry reappeared in an exact replica of his old chambers, and smiled. _'Thank you.'_

 _'My pleasure,'_ Hogwarts replied.

Harry let out a contented sigh as he shrugged out of his rucksack. He had missed Hogwarts, and he had missed having his own space, and it was so good to be home. _'Have any students found this place yet?'_

 _'Not for many years,_ ' said Hogwarts with a chuckle. _'Even the teachers have only ever stumbled across it by accident.'_

Harry smirked. _'Rowena will be pleased to hear that.'_ He started taking his clothes out of his rucksack, then paused. Looking at the stained and baggy cast-offs made him think of the Dursleys, and he had no intention of thinking about those people unless he absolutely had to. ' _Do we still keep spare robes?'_

There was a slight pause before Hogwarts replied _. 'We do. But, Salazar, there is a house-elf outside who wishes to speak with you.'_

Harry closed his eyes for a moment _. 'I should have expected that.'_ He set the clothes down on the bed and took a deep breath. _'Let them in.'_

Hogwarts touched his mind in a brief second of comfort, then the door swung open to reveal an old house-elf. He was dressed in a clean tea towel with the Hogwarts crest on it, and his eyes went as wide as saucers when he caught sight of Harry. Harry smiled and knelt down so they were at eye level.

"Hello," he said gently. "Please come in. What is your name?"

The house-elf visibly swallowed and took a few steps into the room. "I is called Pento," he said.

Harry nodded. "It's nice to meet you, Pento. Why are you here?"

Pento hesitated, then lifted his head to meet Harry's gaze properly. "We house-elves felt the old Master return," he said clearly. "We did not understand, but we are here to serve, and serve we will, if that is Master's wish."

For a moment, Harry could only stare at him. The house-elves were bound to Hogwarts, and so Harry had guessed that they would be alerted to his presence, but he hadn't expected them to recognise him. Pento's ears fell. "Have we displeased, Master?" he asked tentatively.

Harry blinked and shook his head. "No, Pento. Not at all." He took a breath. "Thank you for your service. All I ask is that you do not tell anyone that I am here."

Pento nodded vigorously. "I understand, Master." He gave Harry a warm smile. "All of Hogwarts is happy that you is home."

Harry suddenly found it impossible to speak around the lump in his throat. "I'm very happy to be home too, Pento."

Pento tilted his head to one side, and studied Harry for a long minute. "Master needs looking after," he said suddenly. "Master has not been happy in a long time." His eyes narrowed as they took in Harry's clothes. "Pento will send elves to help Master." He bowed very low, then disappeared with a loud crack.

Harry sat back on his heels and shook his head. He had forgotten how protective house-elves could be of masters they felt deserved it. Not for the first time he mentally thanked Helga for being so passionate in her advocacy of house-elf rights. He, Godric and Rowena had learned easily as much from her as she had from them. None of them had treated house-elves badly to begin with, all their families having taught them better than that, but Helga was something else.

The thought of his friends sent a sharp pang through Harry's chest. He missed them more than he could say. His hands curled into fists, and he felt Hogwarts' silent support. He would find them again. No matter how long it took.

In the meantime, however, he had a lot of catching up to do.


	2. Ill News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Albus Dumbledore frowned.

Unlike some of his colleagues, frowning was not Albus' expression of choice. He much preferred to solve problems with twinkling eyes, a genial smile, and enough nonsense that people ended up too confused to argue. However, while that method worked very well on witches, wizards, Muggles, and anyone else who happened to argue with him, it was far less effective on inanimate objects.

Which was why Albus was reduced to frowning at the small silver device lying motionless on his desk.

Albus had many such devices. Most were tied to the Hogwarts wards, or were alarms relating to his various other positions. Being Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, for example, dictated that he could always be contacted in case of an emergency. This one, however, was different. It was the only tied to a specific individual. It was extremely basic, Albus had felt uncomfortable with even a limited breach of privacy, but when the individual in question was Harry Potter, Albus had reluctantly decided that the intrusion was necessary. He had done his best to limit it though. All the device told him was that Harry was within his relatives' wards, and that he was safe.

In all the time Harry had been with the Dursleys the device had never so much as twitched. That lunchtime though, Albus had returned to his office after a long session in court to find the silver glowing a soft amber. Since Albus had set it to turn bright crimson if Harry was ever in real danger, Albus had been confused, but not particularly alarmed.

That had changed when he investigated further and found that the wards on Number 4 Privet Drive had shattered beyond repair. Albus had been on the verge of immediately Apparating to Little Whinging, when he realised that, despite the state of the blood wards, all indications were that Harry Potter was not in danger. In fact, he was as safe as he had ever been.

Albus rested his chin on his fingertips and considered the matter. Harry was safe. That was the most important thing. However, something had clearly happened at Privet Drive, and Albus had to find out what. He was just debating whether to ask Minerva to visit or to go in person when the entire castle was rocked by a pulse of pure magic and every alarm on Albus' desk started screaming.

Albus was on his feet immediately, drawing on his connection with the wards in an attempt to find the source of the outburst, but his mind was racing. All the students had left the previous week, along with most of the teachers. Even Argus had gone to Cornwall for the holidays. The only people currently in the castle were himself, Minerva, and the house-elves, and none of them should be capable of this. He reached out, but another burst of magic made him stagger back with a cry.

Anger, pain, despair, fury... The emotions tore through the castle with such ferocity that Albus had to break his connection. He leaned on the desk, his head pounding and thoughts whirling. Who could possibly be responsible for this? And how?

From what seemed like a very great distance he heard footsteps, then the door was flung open.

"Albus, what is going on?"

Albus shook his head, and straightened up in time to meet Minerva McGonagall's anxious gaze. "I do not know," he said flatly. "I cannot isolate the source of the disturbance."

Minerva stared at him. "What? How is that possible?"

Albus could only shake his head again. He hated not knowing something, but this was beyond anything he had ever experienced. Minerva took a step closer. "All the ghosts can feel it," she said. "I passed Sir Nicholas and the Friar on the way up. In all these years I've never seen them so agitated."

Albus rubbed at his eyes. "I am not surprised. Whoever is doing this has some connection to Hogwarts, but I cannot for the life of me understand how."

The thought was more than a little terrifying. He waited for Minerva's input, but his deputy didn't reply. Albus frowned. "Minerva?"

Minerva was staring out the window, her eyes as wide as saucers. "Albus," she whispered.

Albus followed her gaze, and his mouth fell open. The previously blue skies were now dark with thick storm clouds, and trees were whipping to and fro in a ferocious gale. Even as the two stunned professors watched, the heavens opened and rain began to fall, lightly at first, but soon it was coming down in heavy sheets. Lightning lit the sky, followed almost immediately by a dull rumble of thunder, and Minerva turned her dazed face towards him.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on?"

* * *

Deep in the library, Harry Potter was heedless of the devastation he was causing. He was staring at the books in front of him, his hands curled into fists, and shaking so hard he could barely think.

"Hated Muggles and Muggleborns," he spat. "Hid a monster in the school to murder them all."

_'Salazar,'_ Hogwarts tried, but Harry barely heard her.

"Left the school after duelling Godric over blood purity!"

_'Salazar-'_

"Slytherin is the home of Dark wizards in training, Gryffindors are heroes, Ravenclaws are know-it-alls, and Hufflepuffs are too pathetic to go anywhere else?"

Harry gave up trying to control himself. Every window in the library shattered, and the books in front of him went flying. Harry felt Hogwarts trying to get his attention, but the storms was free now and he threw himself into it. All the rage and horror and despair of the last hour overflowed, and all Harry could do was ride it out.

It didn't take long. Harry's young body simply couldn't channel the magic necessary for maintaining a storm of that intensity. Bare minutes later the thunder and lightning died, and the rain was fading to a light drizzle, and Harry was drained to the point of numbness.

"How did this happen?" he whispered.

It wasn't true. None of it. Yes, he had hated Muggles, but they had murdered his family right before him! They had condemned their own kin simply because they were different. And there were so many others. Helga had done nothing but help the people of her village, and they had nearly killed her for it. If Salazar hadn't been there... And how many others had died because Muggles hated anyone who wasn't exactly like them?

Harry forced himself to breathe deeply. Yes, he had been wary of Muggleborns, but Helga had opened his eyes. After all, Muggleborns were even more at risk from Muggles than pure bloods or half-bloods. At least those with magical heritage knew what was going on, and how to control their powers. Muggleborns hadn't been nearly so lucky.

That was why it had been so important that Hogwarts be a refuge for all children with magic. Salazar had never argued with that. He certainly wouldn't have fought Godric and let the school over it.

That was another thing Harry couldn't understand. He and Godric had fought all the time, but that was what brothers did. They understood each other, and the duel that day had been nothing out of the ordinary. It was pure bad luck that Salazar had been killed before he had had a chance to return.

Harry shivered, and forced that memory aside. He knew better than to think about his death.

But how could anyone think he would willingly leave his home? Or the only real family he had ever had?

Harry stared round at the destruction he had caused, and choked back a sob. How had everything gone so wrong?

There was a very tentative brush against his mind, and Harry flinched.

"Sorry," he whispered.

He was instantly engulfed in a warm mental hug, and Harry had to smile. Hogwarts, at least, didn't care what the books said about him. She knew the truth. And so would his friends.

In the meantime, he couldn't afford to lose control again. Harry sighed, and with the last of his concentration repaired the broken windows with a wave of his hand. The effort left him dizzy, and he made a mental note to obtain a wand as soon as possible. From what he had gathered he was too young to go out and buy one, and the gods only knew what had happened to his original ones, but there were bound to be some in the Room of Requirement. With any luck one would suit his needs well enough until he could disguise himself and buy one properly.

Until then, he would just have to be careful. Sighing, Harry dragged his aching body out of the chair and began to gather up the scattered books. Considering the chaos he had caused in the wards it was unlikely that Headmaster Dumbledore would be able to isolate his presence in the library, but there was no point in being overtly obvious.

But although Harry's rage had faded, he knew it would be a long time before he came to terms with what had happened to his name and house. After all, they had been the only things he had ever been truly proud of. Without those, what was he?

One thing Harry was certain of though, was that he was going to make this right.

* * *

"Anything?"

Albus blew out an exhausted breath and sat back in his chair. "I am afraid not."

Minerva sank down into the chair opposite him and fixed him with a concerned look. "Albus, how could someone be in Hogwarts and affecting the wards so severely without you being alerted to it?"

Albus shook his head slowly. "I do not know," he said slowly. "The only thing I can think of is that the intruder was not a threat to this school?"

"Not a threat?" Minerva exclaimed. "Albus, you felt that power!"

"I did," Albus confirmed. "But I also felt that power being carefully diverted away from the house-elves, and even from us." Minerva opened her mouth, but Albus held up a hand. "I truly do not believe that this intruder intended any harm to anyone in this castle."

Minerva's eyes narrowed. "And what about that storm?" she demanded. "You can't tell me that was a normal occurrence?"

Albus shook his head. "No," he agreed softly. "That...that was something I thought impossible."

While a degree of control over the elements were fairly common among talented wizards, every child in their world knew better than to play with the weather itself. Even Albus, powerful as he was, had never dared to meddle with such things. He had thought the stories of wizards who could do such things legends at most.

Minerva had gone very pale. "But how could such a person come here undetected?"

"I don't know," said Albus quietly. "But should they attempt to cause harm to anyone in this school, they will come to regret it."

Minerva held his gaze for a minute, then let out a long breath. "I will alert Filius, Pomona, and Severus to what has happened," she said. "We will take it turns to stay, just in case."

Albus smiled at her. "Thank you, Minerva. This is one threat which may require all our strength."

Minerva sighed. "I just hope you are right, and that this person means us no harm." She rose to her feet and straightened her green robes. "If that is all, Albus?"

Albus made a split-second decision. "Actually, Minerva, there was one other little matter."

Very slowly, Minerva turned back to face him. "I'm not sure I like the sound of this," she said grimly.

Albus winced mentally, but he hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor for nothing. "It appears something has happened to Harry Potter."

The look Minerva shot him could have frozen a Dementor in its tracks. Albus sighed and braced himself. This was not going to go well.

* * *

Harry was silent for several minutes as Hogwarts recounted the conversation between the Headmaster and his deputy. He was back in the Room of Requirement, nibbling from the 'light' lunch the house-elves had brought up for him. Honestly, sometimes he thought he was doomed to have people always demanding he put on weight, but there were more important things to be worrying about than people mothering him.

_'Do you trust Dumbledore?_ ' he asked, when Hogwarts finished.

_'He would do anything for the students of this school,'_ Hogwarts replied immediately. _'He is intelligent and powerful, and is perhaps the only person that Voldemort ever feared.'_

Harry's lip curled. He had come across Voldemort, and therefore himself, in the library, and the accounts he had read had very nearly triggered another outburst. Harry had long ago sworn to stop any Dark wizards who threatened innocents. Murdering Lily and James Potter had simply moved Voldemort to the top of the list. But at least Harry now knew how his parents had died, and why Dumbledore was so concerned about his disappearance.

What he didn't know, though, was why the man had sought to place him with his magic-hating relatives.

_'He thought he was doing what was best for you.'_

Harry sighed. Sometimes it was annoying how well Hogwarts knew him _. 'He thought placing with me with people who hate the essence of what I am was best?'_

_'He did not make the decision lightly,'_ said Hogwarts pointedly. _'He and Minerva have had many discussions about it, but the fact remains that your mother's sacrifice created a very powerful form of protection.'_

_'I am familiar with blood wards,_ ' Harry reminded her. _'And I can understand why he didn't want me growing up in the magical world.'_ He had read of the Death Eater attacks even after Voldemort's disappearance. Even hidden, he would have put any magical family who took him in at risk, and then there was the fact that vanquishing the most feared Dark wizard of their generation might well have gone to anybody's head. As much as Harry hated to admit it, he could understand Dumbledore's reasons for placing him with his Muggle relatives.

That didn't change the fact that said relatives were vastly unsuited to raising a magical child. If Harry hadn't faced much worse in his first life he might have snapped long ago.

_'He still has plans for you.'_

Harry just nodded. Dumbledore seemed like the sort of man who had to be in control, and if Voldemort really wasn't dead then the Headmaster was hardly likely to let his little saviour go his own way.

Harry wasn't sure if he and Dumbledore were going to agree on very much, but he did agree that Voldemort wasn't dead.

_'What are you going to do?'_

Harry took a deep breath. _'I'm not going back there. The wards when broke when I left; there'd be no point. And I'm not going to tell him where I am.'_

Hogwarts' voice took on a reproachful edge. _'He's going to worry.'_

Harry shrugged. _'He knows I'm alive. He'll know where I am when I start here in two years. Until then, it serves him right.'_

If Hogwarts had eyes Harry had no doubt she'd be rolling them, but he didn't care. Dumbledore could try to control him all he wanted, but he was going to have at least a couple of years of peace.

Besides, he was allowed to be a bit vindictive. He was only eight after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Any feedback would be appreciated.
> 
> Come and find me on tumblr for update information and extra stuff about my stories! https://izzyaro.tumblr.com


	3. Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Minerva McGonagall stared at the perfectly kept street and sighed.

Minerva didn't disapprove of the order. Unlike certain colleagues, she was quite capable of appreciating a neighbourhood where the residents clearly took pride in appearances. Magic was wonderful, certainly, but the quiet little Muggle street was pleasant enough.

Unfortunately, Minerva was very aware that some of the residents were not.

Honestly, she had never completely agreed with placing Harry with his relatives. She could understand Albus' reasoning; the boy had been safe here, and she had enough memories of what James Potter had been like when he first came to Hogwarts to be glad that his son wouldn't have the chance to let his fame go to his head, but she had still been uneasy. Minerva had met the entire Evans family when she introduced Lily to the magical world, and she was aware of the effect it had on Petunia. She had hoped the woman would have been able to look past her resentment, and maybe she would have, if her husband had not been equally disturbed by the wizards he had encountered. Minerva had loved James like a nephew, but he and Sirius Black were not the people she would have chosen to introduce Vernon Dursley to magic.

Minerva shivered, and shook her head sharply. There was nothing to be done about the past, but she could at least do something for their son now. Taking a deep breath, she strode up to Number 4 and rang the doorbell.

There was silence for a few seconds, then the door opened and Minerva came face to face with Petunia Evans for the first time in over thirty years.

Minerva felt a brief surge of pity. The awkward girl she had met all those years ago had grown into a tall woman with blonde hair, a long neck, and unfortunately large front teeth. Growing up with a sister like Lily couldn't have been easy for the poor woman. Petunia's pale eyes, so different from her sister's, widened.

"You!"

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Dursley. May I come in?"

She didn't give the woman a chance to answer. She brushed past easily, taking in the strictly ordered hallway before entering the living room. That too was perfectly kept, but Minerva's eyes narrowed as she scanned the photographs decorating the walls and mantelpiece. There were many of Petunia, Vernon and their son, but none of a little boy with James' face and Lily's eyes. A dozen of Dudley Dursley, and not a single sign of any other boy living in the house.

Minerva couldn't blame Harry for running away in the slightest.

"He's not here."

Minerva turned to see Petunia standing the doorway. Her thin arms were folded across her chest, and she was watching Minerva with undisguised wariness. "The boy," she said, at Minerva's look. "I assume that's why you're here."

Minerva didn't bother to deny it. "When did you last see him?"

"Yesterday morning, before we left for school," said Petunia curtly. "He was late, so Dudley and I left without him."

Minerva bit back the urge to point out that Harry was only eight years old. There were more important things to worry about. "Did he go to school?"

"No." Her lips pursed. "The school called me, but he was gone by the time I got home. I thought he had gone with one of your lot."

"Professor Dumbledore told you that it wasn't safe for him with us," Minerva pointed out. "We had nothing to do with this."

Petunia's eyes widened ever so slightly, before her expression closed and she looked away. "We haven't seen him," she repeated. "If he ever does come back, I will contact you." The expression on her face made it quite clear that she wasn't expecting him to, but Minerva was slightly surprised by the fact that she would be willing to take him again.

"Can you tell me anything about him?" she asked. "It may help us to work out where he has gone."

Petunia shook her head. "He doesn't talk to us. Or to anyone, really."

Minerva thought of how cheerful Lily always was, and how confident James had been and her chest ached. "I see." She considered pressing the matter, but Petunia was looking more and more tense with every passing moment. "Thank you for your time, Petunia."

Petunia twitched slightly at the use of her name, but jerked her head in acknowledgement. It wasn't until she had opened the door that she spoke. "Do you know if he's safe?"

Minerva blinked, but covered her surprise quickly. "He is," she assured the younger woman. "We do not know exactly where he is, but we do know that he is not in any danger."

Petunia held her gaze for a moment, then a little of the tension seemed to leave her body. "Thank you." Then the door shut, and Minerva was left alone on the doorstep.

Minerva sighed and began to head down the street. Petunia might care more for Harry than even she realised, but it was clear that the boy's childhood had not been a happy one. It really was no wonder he had left. Minerva was almost glad that they had no idea where he had gone; at least she wouldn't have to face sending him back to that place.

One thing was certain. If Harry Potter ever did return, Minerva was going to do whatever she could to make up for this.

* * *

Harry, meanwhile, was enjoying the best summer he had had in his current lifetime. Hogwarts was delighted to have him back, and the house-elves had welcomed him with open arms. Harry had been bemused at first, wondering why they weren't terrified at the sudden reappearance of the evil founder, but Hogwarts had set him straight.

_'I know you are no threat,_ ' she had said, when Harry finally worked out how to ask what was going on. _'And they are bound to me just as you are. Unless you completely change who you are, they will continue to trust you as completely as I do.'_

Harry had been too touched by her words to speak, but the elves themselves had soon proven the castle right. Pento had assigned a young female elf called Teaky to look after him, and Teaky had taken her duties very seriously. She had been horrified at Harry's clothes, and had replaced all his ragged hand-me-downs with proper robes within two hours of meeting him, much to Harry's amusement and gratitude. She was also the main party responsible for the 'fatten up Harry' campaign, a mission that the other elves had taken very much to heart. After years of surviving off of the absolute basics, the attention was quite welcome, even if Harry had initially struggled with feelings of being smothered, but Teaky had made sure to give him the space he needed and the two soon got along as well as Harry ever had with the elves in his first life.

Not only was Harry being well-looked after, he also had plenty to keep him occupied. One of the first things he had done was to thoroughly review the wards and protective enchantments around the school. For the most part his work had survived remarkably well, but there was some inevitable damage from the last thousand years that Harry had immediately started planning to rectify. There were also traces of a nasty curse tied into one of the minor wards, but Harry had been unable to properly identify it without a wand.

Hence why finding a suitable wand was the other thing at the top of Harry's to-do list. And since going wandering around in his current appearance was hardly the best plan in the world, the Room of Requirement it was.

So the day after his relocation found Harry sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed staring out at the sea of wands in front of him.

"How could this many people be stupid enough to lose their wands?"

Hogwarts snorted. _'You know what students are like. Some were merely careless, others got new ones that fitted better and didn't care to dispose of their old ones properly. But really, Salazar, are you complaining?'_

Harry had to smile. "Not at all, my dear." At least there was bound to be something he could work with. Shaking his head, Harry picked up the closest wand and set to work.

It took nearly an hour, but Harry finally settled on a ten inch wand made of pine. To his delight, it responded well to even non-verbal spells, and some more extensive tests proved it could handle all fields of magic more than willingly. Harry smiled at it as he collected the rest of the wands in a neat pile and tidied them away. Being without a wand had been without one of his limbs, and the new freedom the added versatility would grant him was euphoric.

There was one spell in particular he had wanted to try the moment he came across it the previous day. Harry stood up, concentrated hard, then flicked his wand in a circle around his head.

"Praetereo," he whispered.

The resulting sensation was peculiar to say the least. Harry felt like someone had doused him in cold water, but any discomfort was forgotten the moment he looked in the mirror and saw nothing but a faint outline. Harry reversed the charm and grinned at his reflection. "I love magic."

It took a couple more hours of practice, but Harry was eventually satisfied with his ability to perform the charm non-verbally so that would render him completely invisible, as long as he didn't make any sudden movements. Harry still wasn't sure how he had come to exist in this time and body, but if it gave him the chance to learn spells like that then he wasn't complaining in the slightest.

Armed with his wand and the Disillusionment Charm, Harry started to risk going further afield. He wandered the corridors of Hogwarts at will, and it was on these journeys that he caught his first glimpses of the current staff. Headmaster Dumbledore's unusual sense of style made him smile, but the sheer power he exuded left Harry confident that at least this Headmaster could protect their students. He was even more reassured by the kindness with which the man treated the house-elves though; that protection should extend to every inhabitant of the castle, and Dumbledore seemed to agree. Harry still wasn't happy with his own treatment at Dumbledore's hands, but he was willing to reserve judgement until he met the man properly.

Harry also found chances to observe the four heads of the houses. He approved of Professors McGonagall and Sprout, both of whom clearly knew exactly what they were doing, and who cared for the students just as much, if not more so, than Dumbledore did. He also liked Professor Flitwick, whose irrepressible nature and undeniable talent reminded him so much of Godric that Harry had to immediately flee to the Room of Requirement to get his emotions under control. It took him longer than he would have liked, but Harry was left with the confidence that Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were in good hands.

Slytherin, however, was another matter.

There was no doubt that Severus Snape was a very talented wizard. Harry could sense the power the man possessed, and he observed enough conversations undetected to see that Snape had the intelligence to match it. In those respects, he was worthy of leading Slytherin house. However, Harry could also feel the sharp bite of Dark magic that clung to the man, and he recognised the aura of bitterness and guilt all too well. It was a dangerous combination, and Harry decided to keep a very wary eye on Snape once the term started. He left the wizard's presence feeling uneasy, and more concerned than ever about the fate of his beloved house.

Harry wasn't left completely to his own devices though.

He had noticed the ghosts immediately, of course, and had been neither surprised nor annoyed by their presence. Ghosts were common enough in magical buildings, and Hogwarts was special even by magical standards. Besides, it made life more interesting for the students. He was less impressed that after ten centuries no one had managed to get rid of the bloody poltergeist, but at least the spirit limited itself to relatively harmless acts of mischief. All in all, Harry was quite content to avoid and ignore the spirit population of Hogwarts until he could risk appearing as an actual student.

At least, he was until he recognised one of the ghosts.

Harry had been on his way back from the library when he met her. The castle had been deserted but for the house-eves, Dumbledore away on one of his regular excursions, and Harry hadn't seen any need to waste energy Apparating around the school. He had been on his way up to the seventh floor when the ghost popped out of the wall in front of him.

Ordinarily Harry would have Apparated away immediately. He'd done it once before, and had been slightly concerned when the ghost's head nearly fell off, but he was quick enough that nothing had come of it. He had been preparing to do the same when he happened to look in the ghost's face and everything seemed to stop.

"Helena?"

The ghost of Helena Ravenclaw froze in mid-air before slowly turning to peer down at him. "Who are you?" she demanded. Her eyes ran over him, and her lips thinned. "You are no student."

Harry swallowed. He had never expected to see anyone from his past, at least not in the same guise as they had before, but Helena… She was older than he remembered, but she was there and all the years seemed to disappear.

"Child," he said softly. "Do you not remember me?"

Helena stared. "Who are you?" she whispered. "No one has called me that-"

"In ten centuries," said Harry softly. He tilted his head back, missing the days when she barely used to reach his knee, and looked her straight in the eye. "Hello, Helena."

If ghosts could pale, Helena would have done so. As it was, she jerked backwards, eyes widening. "This…this is impossible… This is a joke. Peeves-!"

"You know better, Little One," said Harry.

It was the name only he had ever used for her, and it stopped her in her tracks. Slowly, very slowly, she dropped down until she could look Harry straight in the eye. "S-Salazar?"

Harry managed a smile. "Don't ask me how, but yes."

Helena shook her head. "This is impossible," she repeated. "You died."

Harry flinched. Her words conjured memories that were difficult to avoid. "I know," he managed. "And I am so, so sorry for leaving you all."

Helena swallowed. "Mother wept for you," she whispered. "Helga broke, and Godric never smiled the way he used to. I...I missed you." Her eyes searched his face. "How are you back?"

Harry's eyes were stinging, and he had to stop to wipe away tears. "I do not know," he said. "I did nothing. Eight years ago I woke, and when I was strong enough I came here and that is all I know."

"Then…Mother?"

"I don't know. I hope so. I am praying so," he added in a whisper.

"As will I," said Helena. "There is so much I need to say to her." She looked at him, and gave a small smile. "And even more I have to tell you."

Harry smiled at her. "I would like that. I have missed you."

"Me too." For a moment she looked as if she was going to say something, but then she shook her head. "But you have yet to introduce yourself. Who exactly are you now?"

Harry sighed, but she was going to have to know at some point. "Harry Potter."

Helena opened her mouth, then closed it again. Harry watched in growing amusement as she visibly struggled for words, then shook her head. "Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded.

"The Boy Who Lived."

Harry pulled a face. "Please don't."

"The one who vanquished the Dark lord."

"Helena…"

Helena laughed then, a bright pure sound that Harry hadn't realised he had missed so much. "Only you, Uncle. Only you."

In the end, Harry could only laugh too.


	4. Unforeseen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

Days turned into weeks as Harry's summer passed in a blissful haze. He had originally planned to spend some time exploring the new magical world, but being at Hogwarts, where he was welcomed and accepted without hesitation, was enough that he felt no need for anything else. He spent hours in the library, easily dodging Dumbledore and the other teachers as he caught up on the centuries he had missed. History, politics, magical developments, anything, he devoured as much as he could get his hands on. If nothing else, he was going to have to keep up with Rowena somehow.

Meeting Helena had only made things better. After the shock of their respective situations had sunk in, both had been delighted by the second chance they had been given. Helena proved invaluable in catching Harry up with some of the changes that occurred at Hogwarts, and her glee at having their situations reversed was a joy to see after so many years.

Of course, it wasn't all easy going. Despite Harry's urgings Helena flatly refused to talk about her death, or about why she had chosen to return as a spirit. Harry couldn't really blame her, his own death was something he'd rather not think about given the choice, but not knowing made him feel sick to his stomach. It didn't help that he knew she was keeping something else from him too, something important, but he knew his niece well enough to know how stubborn she was. He would get the answers eventually, but it would take some time.

So Harry stuck to safe topics.

"You are sure that they will return?"

Relatively safe topics at least.

"I am not certain," Harry admitted. "But I did, and I made no provision to. There is a chance that the same may be true of them."

Helena's transparent face clearly betrayed her scepticism, but Harry could also see his own desperate hope in her eyes. Her hands clenched on her pearly dress, and she shook her head. "We will see," she said softly. She shook herself, and turned a small smile on him. "I am glad you are back at least."

Harry just about managed to smile back. As pleasant as it was to get a second chance at life, and to see Helena again, the thought of spending the next hundred years without his family was nigh on unbearable. Some might have told him to make new friends, but Harry was a man a thousand years out of time. How could he possibly go through life pretending to be a child, never letting anyone see him for who he truly was?

Salazar had tried that once, and it had not worked out well. Harry had no intention of making the same mistake twice.

Helena's next words drew Harry straight back to their earlier discussion.

"Maybe they will be one of the students arriving next week."

Harry stared at her. "Next week?"

Helena shot him a bemused look. "You didn't realise?"

Harry could only shake his head. He had run away from his relatives shortly before the start of the summer holidays. It seemed incredible that so many weeks could have passed without him noticing.

Helena grinned. "You'll like it here when the students are back, Uncle. Things have changed a bit."

"I have noticed something of the sort," said Harry dryly. "We will see."

Maybe Helena was right. Maybe he would hear the news he had been waiting for.

Harry kept his eyes open after that, and soon understood Helena's amusement. House-elves and teachers alike were running around with such purpose that it was a mark of just how distracted he was that he hadn't noticed the signs sooner. He noted with resignation that Helena was never going to let him forget it.

Overall though, Harry was too interested in what was going on to worry about what his niece thought of him. Preparing for a new year, with a new group of students, had always been equal parts exciting and terrifying, and from the atmosphere everywhere he went nothing had changed much. Of course some teachers seemed more excited than others, watching Professors Flitwick and Snape interact the night before the students were due to arrive was the most entertainment Harry had had all summer.

It was also a very welcome distraction from Harry's own nerves. He had been trying to stay calm about the prospect of new students arriving, but it was one of the hardest things he had ever done. He knew better than to get his hopes up, but the idea that one or more of his friends might be arriving any day was intoxicating.

The day itself was even worse. The teachers had plenty to keep themselves busy, and the house-elves had even more to do, but Harry was too agitated even to read. Helena eventually got exasperated enough to send him down to the kitchens, where the house-elves graciously put him to work. He had never had much interest in cooking, unlike Helga, but it was enough like Potions that Salazar had always been able to manage and it was a better distraction than any he could think of.

Still, by the time Hagrid left to collect the students, Harry was a nervous wreck. He had hidden himself at the entrance of one of the secret passages in the Entrance Hall, and for once in his life was finding it almost impossible to sit still. He could feel Hogwarts' tolerant exasperation in the back of his mind, but to his relief the castle didn't try to make conversation. Soon a prickling at the edge of his awareness alerted him to the fact that Thestral-drawn carriages carrying the older students were entering the boundaries of the wards, and he shuffled closer to the edge of the tapestry. Harry knew that none of the older students were his friends, but he was still curious to see some of the people who had benefitted from their work.

Soon enough the students started making their way through the Entrance Hall to the Great Hall. Harry watched them fondly. They were different to the students he had taught. They were more open on the whole, more innocent, but they were just as excited to be back as the children he remembered.

He didn't recognise any of them. He hadn't expected to, and he wasn't even completely sure how he would, but it still hurt.

Harry slumped back against the passage wall, and tried to think. Helena had told him that first years were now brought round to the school via the lake. If that was true, then they should be reaching the first of the true wards very soon. If any of his friends were among them he would know soon enough.

Hopefully.

Harry hadn't prayed to anything for a long time. He did now.

And Hogwarts exploded into song.

' _Welcome home!'_

The storm of emotion sent Harry to his knees, but he didn't care. Someone else had returned. Someone else was home.

He wasn't alone.

"Who?" he whispered. "Who is it?"

Hogwarts laughed. ' _You wouldn't want me to spoil the surprise, now would you?'_ Harry scowled, and he felt the warm brush of the castle's consciousness against his. ' _It will only be a few minutes.'_

Harry took a deep breath. He had waited this long. A little longer wouldn't hurt. He pushed himself up, wincing at the pain in his bruised knees, and hurried back to the edge of the passage. A quick glance out showed Professor McGonagall waiting to receive the new students, and Harry grimaced. Hopefully she would leave them alone for at least a few minutes. It would be impossible to speak with whoever had arrived before the Sorting otherwise.

' _Calm, Salazar. All will be well.'_

Harry rolled his eyes, but at that moment there was a booming knock on the door. Harry froze, mouth suddenly bone dry, and watched as the door swung open. About fifty children scuttled in, and Harry desperately scanned their faces for any sign of recognition. He skipped over those who were clearly awestruck, paused for a second on a pair of red-headed twins he just knew would be trouble-makers, then slid over to a dark-haired boy who looked up just in time to meet Harry's gaze.

If the fierce jolt of something settling place hadn't confirmed it, the brilliant smile that lit the boy's face was more than enough to settle all doubts.

' _See?'_

Harry barely heard her. McGonagall was shepherding the first years towards a small antechamber on the other side of the hall, but the boy had lagged until he was at the very back of the group. He shot a final wary look at the witch, then dashed across to the tunnel and let the tapestry fall to cover the entrance.

The next thing Harry knew, he was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug.

"Thank God its you I missed you so much I'm so so sorry-"

"Godric," Harry wheezed. "Can't breathe."

But he was hugging back just as tightly, and had no intention of letting go any time soon. After so many years, something was right again.

"I'm sorry," Godric whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. "Me too. I never meant to leave you."

Somehow, Godric hugged him tighter. "Leave? You died, Salazar." He drew back, and looked Harry straight in the eye. "I should have been there."

"And we were both to blame," said Harry quietly. "I shouldn't have lost my temper." He forced the storm of emotions under control, and shook his head. "We can't do this now. You need to get Sorted."

Godric though, was too busy gaping at his forehead. "Salazar," he said slowly. "Please tell me that that isn't what I think it is."

Harry winced. Godric stared at him, then took a step back and looked him over properly. "And why are you here at all? You're still younger than me."

Harry sighed, but there was no way Godric would leave without at least some of the truth. "I was placed with my Muggle relatives after my parents died." He looked down, unwilling to meet Godric's gaze. "They don't like magic, so I left as soon as I could. I've been here all summer."

Godric swallowed, and pulled Harry into another hug. This time he didn't say anything, but the silent love and comfort was exactly what Harry needed.

"Next summer, you'll come home with me," Godric whispered after a minute. "My parents won't mind."

Harry suspected Godric's parents might disagree about that, but the words still sent a warm glow through his chest. Only Godric could make a promise like that. He was the only person Salazar would accept it from.

' _I hate to interrupt,'_ Hogwarts murmured. ' _But your absence has been noted._ '

Godric grunted, his face setting into the mulish expression Harry knew so well, but Harry shook his head. "We can catch up later. Right now, you've already attracted too much attention."

Godric sighed, but stepped away. "It's fine, I'll say I got distracted. But I'll come and find you as soon as possible."

Harry smiled at him. "I can't wait."

Godric ruffled his hair fondly, easily dodging Harry's half-hearted attempts to swat him away, then paused at the tunnel entrance and glanced back. "Oh, and my name is Cedric now. Cedric Diggory."

"Cedric," Harry repeated. "At least it's easy to remember."

Cedric rolled his eyes, and disappeared in the direction of the Great Hall. Harry slumped back against the wall, and finally let the tears fall. Godric was back. Everything would be all right.

Harry only stayed for a few minutes before his stomach reminded him rather loudly that he hadn't eaten all day. He Apparated down to the kitchens, where the house-elves had already set aside a plate for him, and sat down out of the way to eat and watch them finish their preparations. House-elf magic was always fascinating to watch, especially in such large numbers.

He was distracted though by a sudden flare of confusion, and looked up.

"What's wrong?"

' _Nothing,'_ said Hogwarts, after a moment. ' _Godric just got Sorted.'_ Harry waited, but Hogwarts still sounded slightly bemused when she finally continued, ' _He's in Hufflepuff.'_

Harry froze with a forkful of potato halfway to his mouth. "He's what?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Any feedback would be appreciated.
> 
> And before anyone asks, half of the Founders and half of their reincarnations with be in their canon houses, but not necessarily the same halves. Harry, for example, will be in Slytherin. They’re all open-minded enough to try something different.


	5. Catching Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and am not affiliated with Bloomsbury or Scholastic Inc.

If the wait for the students to arrive had been difficult, the one for them all to get to sleep was torturous. Harry spent the hours pacing the Room of Requirement, completely unable to sit still.

Godric was here. Well, Cedric was here, but it didn't matter. His brother was here, and the future was looking far, far brighter than it had for a very long time.

"What's keeping him?" he muttered.

Amusement reverberated through his mind. ' _He does have to wait for the rest of his house to go to bed. He'll be here soon enough.'_

Harry sighed, and kept pacing. He'd already had to convince himself not to sneak into the Hufflepuff dormitories. The chances of him getting caught were slim to say the least, but it was still safer for Godric to come to him.

Ten minutes later, his patience was rewarded when the door swirled into place. Harry spun round just as Godric, no Cedric, Harry had to get used to the name, entered the room.

Harry folded his arms, and fixed his friend with a flat look. "Hufflepuff?"

Cedric paused, then crossed the room in a few long strokes and pulled Harry into another hug. "I missed you," he muttered.

"You said that already," Harry pointed out, but he hugged back just as hard.

"Well, it's true." He drew back, and Harry was startled to see tears in his eyes. "You died," he whispered. "You died, and I wasn't there."

Harry swallowed. He had been trying not to think about that, but now that Godric was here he couldn't avoid it. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "It wasn't your fault, Cedric. And it wasn't mine either. It was just...how things turned out."

"How things turned out?" Cedric repeated. "You were murdered! And the last thing I said to you-"

"Doesn't matter," Harry interrupted. "Not any more." Cedric opened his mouth, but he remained quiet when Harry gripped his shoulder. "What happened in the past is done. We have a second chance now, and I don't want to waste time."

Cedric bit his lip. He was silent for a minute, then let his shoulders slump. "All right. Fine. But things will be different now. I swear on my life."

Harry's own vision turned blurry, and he hurried to wipe his eyes. "I know. We know better now."

Cedric smiled, and this time Harry was the one to go to him for a hug. He couldn't help it. Only Dudley got hugs at Privett Drive, and ghosts weren't very good at physical contact. Cedric's grip turned crushing for a moment, then he stepped back with clear reluctance.

"I still can't believe you're Harry Potter. Though I really shouldn't be surprised."

"Helena said the same thing," said Harry dryly.

Cedric nodded, his smile fading. "Helena…I saw her at the feast. How…?"

Harry grimaced. "She won't tell me. She knows who I am though. We'll get it out of her."

"Preferably before Rowena arrives," said Cedric grimly.

Harry felt his heart skip a beat. "You think she will? They will?"

Cedric squeezed his shoulders. "I don't see why not. It's not like we planned to, after all, and yet here we are."

Harry recognised the longing in his voice and swallowed. As wonderful as it was to have Godric back, things wouldn't be right until their friends joined them. "I hope so," he whispered.

They stood in silence for a minute, then Harry shook his head. "You distracted me. Hufflepuff?"

Cedric grinned, but his grey eyes remained serious. "I have reasons."

"Good ones?"

"When are my reasons not good ones?" He laughed at the expression on Harry's face, and threw himself into one of the armchairs. Once Harry followed suit, he continued, "Well, firstly, my parents are Hufflepuffs, and they will be over the moon."

Harry raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, and after a moment Cedric's smile faded. "But mainly because it isn't fair."

Harry frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

Cedric sighed. "I know you grew up with Muggles, but you must have been catching up on everything since you got here. You've seen what people think of Hufflepuff."

Harry's hands clenched into fists. "I've been getting an idea."

It had enraged him just as much as his own house's tarnished reputation had. How the virtues of loyalty, hard work, and open-mindedness could possibly been seen as anything to be ashamed of were beyond him. Cedric's grey eyes were cold as ice.

"Everyone calls Hufflepuff the house for those who weren't good enough to go anywhere else," he said quietly. "We'll see if they say the same once I'm done."

Harry managed a faint smile at that. "Helga will appreciate it."

"She deserves no less. This should never have happened at all." He paused, and looked Harry straight in the eye. "And Hufflepuff is not the only one."

Harry didn't trust himself to reply, and so just nodded. Cedric leaned forward to grip his shoulder. "You will prove them otherwise," he said fiercely. "This is not your fault, Salazar."

Harry snorted. "No. Just my name and ideals that have been twisted beyond recognition." Magic cracked in the air, and he took a moment to control himself. "I don't know why we came back," he said. "But we will make the most of it."

Cedric gave a grim smile. "Hogwarts will be united again. I expect Rowena will return to Ravenclaw, and Helga will be happy wherever she decides. Whatever happens, between the four of us we can set things right."

Harry said nothing, but he let himself slump back against the soft cushions. Even with the enormity of the task facing them, just having some sort of plan, and someone to talk it over with was a relief. "It'll be strange with half of us in different houses, but it'll be a good change of perspective," he said. He let out a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "We will be fine."

Cedric hummed in agreement, and for a minute, they sat in silence. Eventually though, Cedric sighed and sat up.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened with you?"

Harry stiffened, but Cedric's eyes held nothing but compassion, and he took a moment to gather himself. Cedric deserved to know, and Harry needed to tell someone.

"I don't remember everything," he said quietly. "I remember my father telling my mother to flee with me. I remember her pleading for Voldemort to kill her instead. Then there was just green light."

Cedric drew in a sharp breath. "So it was the Killing Curse? How is that possible?"

Harry traced the pattern on the cushion, and shook his head. "I don't know. I suspect my mother did something, there were Blood Wards around the Dursleys' residence that were connected to me, but I never got the chance to examine them properly." His mouth twisted into a smile. "And now they are redundant, to say the least."

Cedric's jaw clenched, and Harry saw his hand move towards his wand. "Warding was never my strong point," he began, and his tone would have sent Dark lords running for cover, "but would I be correct in thinking that those ward rely on feelings of love and acceptance to attain their full potency?"

Harry made a mental note to never give his friend the Dursleys' address, and pushed himself to his feet. For some reason, he found it easier to think on the move this time round. "They were not as bad as they could have been. They did not want me there, and they made no attempts to pretend otherwise, but they were more neglectful than outright abusive."

"That's bad enough," Cedric snarled. "They are your family."

Harry gave him a small smile. "Cedric, I'm fine," he said gently. "Compared to the last time…" He trailed off with a shrug.

Cedric held his gaze for a long moment, then his shoulders slumped. "It is good to see you without the staff."

Harry closed his eyes. "I can run. I can climb. I might even try one of those brooms everyone likes so much." He shook himself, and looked at Cedric. "I'm never going back there. That's all I care about."

Cedric still looked like he wanted to curse the Dursleys into oblivion, but he contented himself with a shake of his head. "It's your call."

"Thank you." He dropped back into his chair and slumped against the cushions. "So what's your family like this time?"

"Well, I'm a pureblood," Cedric began. "My parents were both in Hufflepuff, as I said. My dad works for the Ministry of Magic, and Mum is studying for her Potions Mastery."

Harry brightened. "Really?"

Cedric shot him an amused look. "Yes, I'm sure she would be happy to catch you up."

Harry ran a sheepish hand through his hair. He would have to find a way to get some brewing done over the year. Cedric's expression made it quite clear he knew what his friend was thinking as he continued, "A couple of magical families live nearby. Mr. Lovegood has a daughter who's a year younger than you, but the Weasleys have seven children, four of whom are at Hogwarts now." He paused. "I think that's right. Yeah, Bill's left." He grinned. "The twins started this year. I expect they'll make life interesting."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Are they red-heads?"

Cedric laughed. "That's them. I think Mr. and Mrs Weasley were pleased to be rid of them for most of the year. At least they're all in Gryffindor, so Charlie and Percy can keep them under control."

Harry nodded, but his stomach twisted uncomfortably. He was glad Cedric had had a good life so far, but part of him couldn't help but wonder about his new friends. He knew that Cedric needed friends his own age. He couldn't afford to be isolated, and the more contacts they could make around their fellow students, the better.

Jealousy was not an attractive trait, Harry reminded himself firmly. Cedric certainly didn't deserve it.

"That reminds me," said Cedric suddenly. "We need to go to Diagon Alley at some point."

Harry blinked. "Excuse me?"

Cedric's grin was all too familiar. "Well, we'll have to go to Hogsmeade too, but there's a lot more choice in Diagon Alley." He frowned suddenly. "It's a shame they won't sell you a wand until you get your Hogwarts letter."

"I do have one that works with me," said Harry absently, but his mind was whirling. "Anyway, I have no money."

Cedric's smile faded. "Harry, your parents were rich," he said. "At least, your father's family was. Even without a key, a blood test from the goblins will allow you access to your vault."

Harry had known the Dursleys were lying about his parents and their wastrel status. Somehow, the confirmation still hurt. His hands were shaking, and he clenched them into fists. "Yes. I'll do that."

Cedric nodded. "I'll take you. I should be all right with Side-Along Apparation, especially now that I've got a wand. Though I do need to get a secondary one."

They had all learned the value of having a back-up wand. Harry managed a faint smile. "I think Hogwarts can help with that."

Right on cue, the array of wands that Harry had tested at the start of summer appeared on a table in front of them. Cedric beamed. "I am so glad to be back. Thank you, Hogwarts."

They both received a brief caress in acknowledgement, and Cedric began testing the wands. "This is very useful, but also quite worrying."

"That was my reaction," Harry admitted. "What's your official wand?"

"Aspen, twelve and a half inches, with a dragon heartstring core," Cedric rattled off. He touched another wand, shook his head, and moved on to the next one. "Good for Duelling and Charms work, so I can't imagine why it chose me." Harry snorted, and Cedric grinned at him. "You'll be pleased to know that the Ollivander family is still in business."

"That is good news," Harry agreed. The family had been fine wandmakers in their time, and no doubt their skills had only increased over the intervening centuries.

Cedric eventually managed to get a satisfactory response from a laurel wand, and he was smiling as he banished the remaining wands.

"I'm almost hoping someone does try to steal it."

"Why does it not surprise me that that that is the only piece of wandlore you ever managed to remember?" asked Harry dryly.

Cedric pulled a face at him, but he couldn't keep the satisfied smile from his face as he ran through a series of basic spell chains with his new wand. He nodded approvingly at the results, but then his expression suddenly turned serious. "Harry, have you thought about what you're going to do for the next two years?"

"Of course I have," said Harry with a huff. "What do you take me for?"

Cedric rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

Harry relented, and shrugged. "I'll read. I've got a lot of catching up to do. And I want to keep an eye on some of the teachers. I won't have our students receiving substandard teaching."

"No arguments here," said Cedric grimly. "Overall, Hogwarts has retained its good reputation, but I've heard some things from the Weasleys that concern me."

Harry set his jaw. That would not do. "We'll see what we can do."

They might be only nine and eleven respectively, but they were also Founders of Hogwarts. Woe betide any who underestimated them within the walls of their home.

The moment was broken when Harry let out a jaw-cracking yawn. Cedric grinned, but a moment later, found himself yawning even louder.

"I'd forgotten how tiring being eleven was," he grumbled. "And I've got classes tomorrow."

"Yes, however will you cope?"

Cedric flicked a minor jinx at him, which Harry deflected with a wave of his hand. "Says the one who will get to stay in bed." He grinned suddenly. "Though we really should start up our morning sparring sessions again."

"I've been looking forward to it," said Harry, and he actually meant it. It had been a constant of their lives for nearly fifty years, and he had missed it more than he could say. Then his mood darkened, and he sighed. "And we are going to need it."

Cedric said nothing, but Harry sensed rather than saw every muscle tense. He sighed again. "We need to find out what happened to Voldemort."

Cedric's eyes narrowed. "You don't think he was destroyed."

"Dark Lords aren't destroyed easily," said Harry quietly. "We both know that. And by sacrifice born of a mother's love?"

"It does leave some unanswered questions," Cedric agreed. He cocked his head to one side, sharp eyes never leaving Harry's. "You know Dumbledore would probably be able to tell you something."

"He's more likely to send me back to the Muggles than tell me anything," Harry snapped. "I'm nine, remember? No-one will tell me anything."

He couldn't wait to grow up. Cedric nodded ruefully. "It can be frustrating. My parents think I'm mature for my age, but they only take it so far." He shook his head. "Not that I can blame them. They'd think me insane."

Harry sighed, already regretting his outburst. "We could prove it, but…"

"It would cause more problems, especially for you," said Cedric immediately. "We'll have to wait to establish ourselves before we think about anything else." He sighed, and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I hope the girls get here soon."

Harry's chest ached, and he had to look away. "At least we know they're all right, if they are here," he said quietly. "They haven't felt the need to run away." That was just him. Again.

Harry shook his head firmly. Self-pity was pointless. He stood up, and nudged Cedric with his toe. "You should head back. Classes start in the morning."

Cedric pulled a face. "First year classes," he grumbled, as he dragged himself up. "We're going to have to find something more interesting to do over the year."

Harry smirked at him. "I'm sure we can come up with something."

Cedric grinned. "Oh, I think so." He turned towards the door, and then paused. "It's good to see you again, Salazar," he said softly. "We missed you."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. Cedric hesitated, then darted back back to pull him into a tight hug. "Don't you dare get yourself killed again," he whispered into Harry's hair. "I...we can't go through that. Not again."

"I'll do my best," Harry said. Cedric's arms tightened, and Harry closed his eyes.

That was the only promise he could make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Any feedback would be appreciated.


	6. Clouds

One of the nice things about the students being back, Harry reflected, was not having to Disillusion himself as he made his way through his castle. In his plain back robes and with his scar covered, he looked just like any other first year, albeit one that was a bit smaller than usual. The portraits took no notice of him, and the other students accepted him as one of them without question. He did have to be more careful with the teachers, but they were easy enough to avoid. He still had to Disillusion himself once he got to the library, or run the risk of getting drawn into conversation, but that was good practice.

It was in the library that Cedric found him after their first day of lessons. Harry had hidden himself among the advanced Runes books right at the back, and was happily catching up on everything he'd missed when his friend dropped his bag next to him.

"Binns has to go."

Harry bade a silent farewell to Leonardo da Vinci, and set the book aside in favour of peering at his friend. "Which one is that?"

"History of Magic," said Cedric shortly. "It was the worst lesson I've ever had in my life."

Harry frowned. History was too important a subject to be neglected. The Muggle-borns in particular needed to understand the world they had become a part of, but it was equally important for those raised in the magical world to get a proper, unbiased education.

"In what way?" he asked. "Was he a bad teacher, or…?"

"He spent an hour droning on and on about the goblin rebellions! He didn't introduce himself, he didn't lay out a proper lesson plan, he just started talking and didn't stop! I knew some of what he was talking about from my grandmother, but everyone else in there was completely lost. If I was a Muggle-born and that was my first exposure to magic I'd leave and never come back!"

"Calm down," Harry hissed. They were well away from curious ears, but Cedric's shouting wouldn't go unnoticed. Cedric lowered his voice, but he was still fuming.

"And he even manages to make goblin rebellions boring. I tell you, Harry, half the class was asleep within twenty minutes. He's the least inspiring person I've ever met! I'm amazed anyone passes any exam in that class, let alone their OWLs and NEWTs."

Harry blinked, thrown by the sudden detour to animals. "Excuse me?"

Cedric opened his mouth, then paused and shook his head. "Sorry, keep forgetting you didn't grow up with this stuff. Students take OWL exams in fifth year, and more advanced NEWTs in seventh year." Harry nodded in understanding, and Cedric returned to his diatribe, "But hardly anyone takes History to NEWT level, and Binns' lessons are considered a chance to catch up on sleep. It cannot continue."

Harry shook his head. "I agree. We'll think of something." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Any chance he could be persuaded to resign?"

Cedric gave him a peculiar look. "If no-one has been able to manage it in the last two hundred years, I doubt we'll have much luck."

Harry nodded, then blinked and stared at him. "What?"

He had to have misheard. Cedric stared at him in complete confusion for a moment, then his expression cleared and he laughed. "Oh, Harry."

"What?" Harry demanded. He raised his wand. "I have enough control over my magic to hex you, you know."

Cedric controlled himself, and shook his head. "Sorry, I needed that. Harry, Binns is a ghost."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Having a ghost teach History is actually quite a good idea."

"Of course you would say that," said Cedric fondly, but his expression soon turned serious. "The problem is, Binns refuses to accept that he is a ghost. As a result, he refuses to adapt to his circumstances in any way, including updating his curriculum. From what I can tell, he doesn't cover anything more recent than the mid-nineteenth century, not even the times of Grindelwald or Voldemort." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "And he really is a dreadful teacher."

Harry tapped his wand thoughtfully against his knee. "I wonder why Dumbledore hasn't asked him to move on. He must realise that our students' education is more important than being able to claim a ghost as a professor."

"It's probably more a case of misplaced loyalty than any sense of prestige," Cedric suggested. "But you're right. Things can't continue."

There was a logical solution, and Harry didn't hesitate to suggest it. "I'll have a talk with him. I will try to talk him into moving on first," he added quickly, when Cedric raised an eyebrow. "I'll save those...other measures for later."

"Like Peeves," Cedric muttered. "I still can't believe no-one's gotten rid of him yet."

Harry pulled a face. As amusing as they had found the poltergeist at first, he was absolutely impossible to control. At least he was as protective of the castle and students as they were, in his own unique way. Harry shook his head and returned to the matter at hand.

"When should we do it?"

Cedric pursed his lips thoughtfully. "This weekend."

"Thank you, that gives me so much time to prepare."

Cedric nudged him with the toe of his boot. "It also gives our students time to get a decent teacher this year. Besides, since when have you struggled to exorcise a ghost?"

"It's the principle of the thing," said Harry, with a sniff. "Will you be helping?"

Cedric nodded. "I'll find someone to cover for me. I doubt they'll suspect a first year anyway, but there's no point taking risks."

Harry smirked at him. "So you were listening all those years. I was beginning to wonder."

Cedric shot a light hex at him, that Harry deflected with flick of his wand. It hit the nearest bookshelf, and they winced as one.

"Maybe we should stick to sparring in the Room of Requirement," said Cedric sheepishly. "Rowena will murder us otherwise."

Harry snorted in agreement, and cast a quick Cleaning Charm at the shelf. "We'll add it to the list of things not to tell her." He glanced round to check they hadn't attracted any unwanted attention, before returning to the topic of discussion. "So Binns needs to go. Any other areas of concern?"

Cedric twirled his wand absently as he thought about it. "I've had Flitwick, Sprout and McGonagall today, and they were all excellent. Astronomy isn't until Wednesday night, but I haven't heard any complaints about Sinistra." He paused, and looked at Harry. "The upper years did warn us all that Snape is incredibly biased towards Slytherin."

Harry had to force his fingers to relax on his wand. "I have observed him in passing," he said quietly. "There is a darkness in him that I do not like." He was silent for a moment, then sighed. "I will try to observe his classes, and see how he interacts with each of the houses." Some favouritism was understandable, but none of the other heads of house had the reputation that Snape did.

Cedric's lips thinned. "Be careful. He isn't one to cross." Harry nodded, and after a moment Cedric continued, "I will try to talk to the older students about the elective teachers, when it won't be too suspicious, but I did hear a couple of people talking about taking Divination just because it was an easy OWL."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Students. I don't know why Divination was ever added to the course list, it's completely pointless for anyone other than a true Seer." He shook his head. "We might have to leave that for Rowena to deal with."

"Neither of us would have any idea about assessing a teacher's competence in that area," Cedric agreed. He grinned suddenly. "And I wouldn't want to deprive Ro of the satisfaction."

Harry snorted. Their friend had always been rather eloquent on the subject of charlatans. Cedric's grin widened at the memory, but after a moment he shook his head. "All right. That should be enough to keep us going for a little while." He shot Harry an appraising look. "Will you be up for sparring this evening?"

"If you think you can get away without being noticed," said Harry, with a nod. "I know Helga's lot were always the most protective of new students."

"Trust me, nothing has changed at all," said Cedric fondly. He slipped his wand back into its holster, and stood up. "I should get back though. They'll be wondering where I got to."

Harry didn't like having to catch odd moments with his best friend, but that couldn't be helped. He started to reach for another book, but suddenly paused. Something in Cedric's expression told him that there was something else. He raised an eyebrow, and after a moment of silent consideration, Cedric surrendered.

"Harry, Helena isn't the only one here."

* * *

This time, Harry did Disillusion himself as he made his way through the corridors. It wasn't quite as effective as normal though. Try as he might, he couldn't keep his emotions, or his still-developing magic under control. He avoid the students as best he could, but he still saw the more sensitive among them start and shiver as he passed.

Under normal circumstances he would be appalled by his lack of control, but for the moment he simply didn't care. As far as he was concerned, the cause was sufficient.

Cedric hadn't tried to dissuade him from his course of action. In all likelihood his friend would have joined him, but this confrontation was better held while the students were at dinner in the Great Hall, and Cedric's absence would be noticed. Hufflepuffs were protective of their first years.

Besides, this conversation would go better with just the two of them.

A flicker from up ahead warned of Professors Flitwick and Sprout, and Harry paused just long enough to confirm with Hogwarts that his target hadn't left the dungeons before ducking into a secret passage. The students might notice his magic if they were paying particular attention, but a teacher certainly would. The slightly longer route was acceptable, if only because it gave Harry a chance to process the information.

It was no wonder Helena had been so reluctant to talk to him.

The dungeons were deserted by the time Harry got there. All the Slytherins were in the Great Hall, and Harry took a moment to catch his breath before heading into the labyrinth of passages. The familiar surroundings soothed him, and his fury cooled to something quieter, but no less dangerous. He was Slytherin, and would deal with this as he ought.

The Bloody Baron was exactly where Hogwarts had told Harry he would be. He recognised the little alcove immediately, and nostalgia threatened to overwhelm him. He cancelled the Disillusionment Charm with a thought, sat on the stone bench, and looked at the spirit of the man who had been one of his first students.

"I did not expect to see you again, Edmund."

Edmund gave no sign of having heard, but after a long moment he turned blank silver eyes to Harry. "Likewise. Sir."

That answered the question of whether Helena had spoken to him. Harry nodded, but kept his own face expressionless. "Tell me."

His expression was one thing, his magic quite another. Edmund flinched, and looked away. "I refused to listen. I ignored everything you taught me. I was a fool."

"Foolish was continuing to pursue Helena, despite our objections," said Harry coldly. "What you did-"

"Was unforgivable," the ghost interrupted. "I know, sir." He looked back, and this time the pain was clearly visible in his black eyes. "I was blind with rage. I regretted it the moment it was done, and I knew there was no way to atone for it." He stared round at the alcove where Salazar had set with him, and where he had set with younger Slytherins in turn. "I returned in penance, and here I will remain a long as Hogwarts endures."

Harry nodded slowly. "And Helena?"

Edmund's face twisted in ancient grief. "She returned for the same reason, but it was too late. Her mother..." His voice faltered, and he looked down for a moment before continuing, "She needs forgiveness, but she cannot move on. She is afraid."

Harry closed his eyes. He had half-expected as much. He shook his head, and looked back at Edmund. "And now?"

If ghosts could pale, Harry had no doubt that Edmund would have, but he met Harry's gaze without flinching. "She will wait for her mother. She has much to say to her. As do I."

He fell silent, but there was a tension to him that told Harry that he had more yet to say. Harry waited, and finally the ghost spoke again, "And I failed you."

"You did," said Harry. He tried to keep his voice level, but his magic crackled in the air. "I trusted you to protect her."

Edmund flinched, and looked away. "Everything changed after...after your death," he whispered. Harry's stomach twisted painfully, but the Baron wasn't finished, "They all changed. The students didn't know what to do." His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "Neither did I." His shoulders slumped, and he bowed his head. "We missed you."

Harry didn't reply. He couldn't. Even after years of being with his friends, and being known and respected as one of the founders of Hogwarts, he had ever quite been able to abandon the fear of being forgotten. He had dreaded the thought of his death passing unnoticed. Years with the Dursleys had only reinforced those feelings.

He really should have known better. Hogwarts was a steady presence in the back of his mind, and he thought of Cedric's rib-cracking hugs, and managed to clear his throat.

"Likewise."

Edmund relaxed a tiny fraction, and Harry knew he understood. He took a moment to collect himself, then coughed. "What is your role within Slytherin House?"

The Baron paused, but more in thought than out of a reluctance to answer. "I try to guide them, as you guided us. I support them when faced with the other students." He paused, and then there was reluctance. "But...things are not easy for Slytherins. And not all of it is undeserved."

The thought sent a familiar pulse of anger through Harry, and he checked himself when Edmund twitched. "I am aware. And when I am old enough, I will set things right."

Edmund said nothing, but he bowed with every ounce of his old respect, and Harry let himself relax a little. He could not change the past, and he did not know if he could forgive. All he could do was help the people he loved as best he could.

"Rowena will come," he said quietly. "You will wait for her, and you will accept whatever judgement she proclaims."

Edmund just bowed again. Harry sighed. He didn't envy his friend at all. He shook his head firmly; Rowena needed the truth, and they all needed some form of closure. In any case, Rowena wasn't here yet. They would deal with this mess when the time came.

In the meantime, there was another ghostly problem to deal with.


	7. Small Steps

“Stupefy!”

Harry grinned a vicious grin and launched himself to one side. The red light missed him by inches, and a rapid Shield Charm caught the two the first one had been herding him towards. He retaliated with a furry of curses, but his opponent countered with a shield of his own and started to advance, pressing his offensive all the way. Harry backed up, still casting as fast as he could manage, but the strain on his young magic was becoming difficult to bear. A ridiculously overpowered Disarming Spell sent his wand spinning from his hand, and him crashing to the floor.

“Ow.”

Cedric’s face swam into view, his expression decidedly sheepish. “That might have been a bit much.”

Harry glared at him. “You think?”

His lungs were still burning, and his muscles felt like jelly as he accepted his friend’s help up. He leaned forward, hands resting on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He had forgotten just how intense these workouts could get.

Though at least Cedric was breathing heavily too. At the beginning of the week Cedric had been defeating him with embarrassing ease, but sparring twice a day and training while Cedric was in lessons had paid off. Harry still had a lot of work to do, but his magic was rapidly getting used to combat again.

“That was longer than last time,” Cedric said. “You’ll be back to your normal standards in no time.”

Harry gave him a tired smile. “How did you manage to stay in shape?”

Cedric shrugged. “As much physical training and wandless exercises as I could get away with.”

Harry grunted. Regularly missing meals and sleeping in a cupboard weren’t conducive to building up decent muscle tone. From the way Cedric’s expression had darkened the same thought was on his mind, but he knew better than to bring it up. Instead, his friend gave him a slightly forced smile.

“Though you’re going to be faster than ever, I think.”

Harry just nodded. Dodging Dudley had been easier than trying to defend himself. Besides, just being able to run was enough of a novelty that he had indulged himself whenever possible. He still went out for a run round the grounds while the students were in their lessons. He couldn’t spend all day reading, and the exercise would be invaluable for when he did get into a real fight.

Cedric still looked faintly murderous though, so Harry dragged himself back to the present.

“I hope so.” He stretched his aching muscles, and looked at his friend. “So. Binns?”

Cedric paused, but moved on from plotting revenge on the Dursleys with a visible effort and a slightly sheepish look. “Right. Everyone in Hufflepuff thinks I’m with the twins, and I told Fred and George that someone had told me something about the kitchens being near the Hufflepuff Basement, so that should keep them out of the way.” He glanced at his watch, and frowned. “For an hour or two, at least.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re really going to subject the house-elves to those two?”

Cedric rolled his eyes. “They aren’t that bad.”

Harry hummed non-committedly. The twins had been at Hogwarts barely a week, and they had already caused more chaos than everyone else in the castle put together, save Peeves of course.

“They aren’t!”

“If you say so,” said Harry dryly. He retrieved his wand, and winced at the headache that had built up. He was using a lot of magic for someone of his age, but Harry knew his own capabilities. More importantly, he couldn’t afford to wait.

“Harry?”

Harry shook his head. “Just a headache.” His scar seemed to tingle and he rubbed at it rather irritably. “And my scar seems to react to magic.”

Cedric frowned. “You’ve never mentioned it before.”

“It doesn’t happen often,” said Harry. “I think it’s because the Room is so saturated with magic.” Hogwarts itself was one of the most magical places in the world, and the Room of Requirement had been the focus of some of their most delicate and complex spells.

Cedric’s expression though, had darkened.

“Or your scar is reacting to something else.”

Harry paused. He hadn’t considered that. The perfectly controlled room suddenly felt very cold. “Cursed scars often react to the presence of Dark magic.”

The two of them looked at each other, then glanced around as one.

“Hogwarts,” said Cedric evenly. “What else have students been leaving in this room?”

There was an uncomfortably long pause before Hogwarts replied. ‘I do not know.’

Cedric paled, and Harry had to take a steadying breath. They should have realised as much. Hogwarts was powerful, but she wasn’t omniscient. “Can you show us?”

This time there was no reply, but the room shivered and rippled and reformed. Harry stared around, and swallowed. “Well, I know what I’ll be doing for the next couple of years.”

Piles of rubbish lay heaped in rough rows as far as the eye could see. Some of it looked vaguely useful, like old books and robes, but there was also broken furniture, and scraps of parchment, and a multitude of magical items that Harry couldn’t even begin to name. Cedric stared at the mess and shook his head.

“Wow,” he breathed. “Yeah. This ought to keep you busy.”

Harry pulled a face, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind too much. There was only so much training he could do, particularly with Cedric in lessons, and even he couldn’t just spend two years reading. Clearing up the Room of Requirement would be a suitable distraction.

Being able to locate and isolate anything that might be a potential danger to their students was just an added bonus.

‘I would appreciate it,’ said Hogwarts. ‘No-one has done a proper clean out in centuries. The house-elves do not like to come here.’

Harry nodded. “I wouldn’t ask them to. If there are Dark items in here then I don’t want them exposed to them.” In the distance a one of the stacks slowly toppled sideways and scattered on the floor with a crash, and he sighed. “Rowena will have a fit.” The Room had been her pride and joy.

Cedric clapped him on the shoulder. “You’d better work hard then. Of course, I would be more than willing to help out, if not for those pesky lessons…”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m telling Ro you said that.” He took another long look at the chaos, then shook his head. “We can deal with this later. We need to get moving.”

Cedric nodded, expression immediately turning serious. “Where is Binns?”

There was a slight pause before Hogwarts replied. ‘In his office. But you will be good to him, won’t you? He has served well and faithfully for many years.”

Harry was inclined to dispute the serving well part, but he couldn’t deny Binns’ loyalty, and nodded. “Of course.”

The two of them left the Room of Requirement and made their way down to Binns’ office. They passed a few students, but neither of them paid the first year and apparent first year any attention. Harry used the trip to review the spells he would need if the ghost proved particularly stubborn, but he didn’t miss the fact that Cedric’s usually cheerful face was very grim. His friend caught his eye and grimaced.

“I’m not looking forward to this.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, and he flushed slightly. “And no, it’s not because he’s a ghost. Honestly, Sal, I got over that before we returned to Britain.”

“I know,” Harry drawled. “But sometimes I need to remind myself that there really were things you were scared of.” Cedric rolled his eyes, and Harry smiled slightly before returning to the subject at hand. “I don’t particularly like it either, but we must. Our students deserve better.”

“I know,” said Cedric, with a sigh. “But still...” He trailed off, and shook his head. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Harry eyed him for a moment, but he had always known when Godric didn’t want to talk, and Cedric was even easier to read, so he kept his peace. He would have plenty of time to deal with whatever was bothering his closest friend once they were done.

Besides, he wanted to get this over with too.

Fortunately, Binns was in his office. It took him several minutes to realise that they were at the door, and even once he called them in he bore an expression of complete confusion. Harry supposed he wasn’t a teacher who often received visitors outside of class.

“Yes, Diggly?”

“Diggory, sir,” Cedric corrected gently.

“Of course, Diggersby.” Pale eyes turned to Harry, and narrowed. “And you, I do not know.”

“Potter, sir,” said Harry. Cedric shot him a sharp look, but Harry gave a slight shrug. One way or another, Binns would not be spreading that information. Binns though, just gave a slow blink.

“Porter, yes. I have taught many Porters.”

Or being mistaken for one of his ancestors also worked well enough. It also reinforced the impressions that Harry had got from Cedric and Hogwarts. Binns could not remain as a member of staff. Cedric coughed, and took a step forward.

“You have been here for a long time, Professor Binns.”

Binns started slightly in midair, as though he had forgotten that they were they. “I suppose so, Digbeth.”

Cedric grimaced, but something about the ghost’s manner caught Harry’s attention, and he moved up to stand next to Cedric. “You do not sound particularly excited about it.”

Binns shrugged. “I am a teacher. Hogwarts is my life. Where else would I go?”

“Hogwarts was your life,” said Harry gently. “And I am sorry, Professor, but that life is over.”

Binns was completely still, but his head turned and for the first time he looked Harry straight in the eye. “Over?”

Harry nodded. “Is this really what you wish to spend eternity doing? Talking about the same old wars and rebellions to an ever-changing sea of faces? Never seeing what lies behind these walls, on the greatest adventure one can take?” He stepped forward, ignoring the tension radiating from Cedric. “You deserve better than this, Professor.”

Binns shook his head. “No. No…I…This is what I chose.”

Cedric made a muffled noise, but Harry caught a flash of something behind the words, and his eyes narrowed. “And have you since come to regret that choice?”

Binns held his gaze, and something resembling passion finally entered his expression. “The choice was made.”

“And were you ever offered another?” Harry asked. “Or the choice to end this half existence?”

Binns did not reply, and Harry nodded. He had wondered as much. Wizards were not very good at change, especially when it came to time honoured traditions. Cedric looked between the two of them, mouth slightly open, before he finally turned back to Binns.

“If you did have the choice,” he said gently, “what would you like to do?”

For several long minutes, there was no reply. Harry was in no hurry. This was one of those decisions that should not, and would not be taken lightly. He had said his piece. He could only hope that it would be enough.

Binns stared at him for a long minute, then raised his head. He peered round at the stone walls as if seeing them for the first time, and his mouth twisted into a faint smile.

“I used to be able to remember the name of every student I ever taught. Their houses, their hopes, and dreams. Many visited me after leaving Hogwarts.” He paused, and his eyes came to rest on the two boys. “What are your names?”

There was an edge to his voice that had not been there previously, and Harry bowed. “My name is Harry Potter, and this is Cedric Diggory.”

Cedric smiled. “It is a pleasure, sir.”

Misty eyes peered at them, and Binns slowly shook his head. “I wish I could say the same,” he murmured.

Cedric frowned, but kept quiet when Harry elbowed him. Harry himself met the ghost’s eyes steadily. “Is this the existence you want, Professor?”

“I never wanted this,” said Binns quietly.

Harry tightened his grip on the wand in his pocket. It would not be long now. Cedric glanced at him, his face a mask of compassion, but made no move to interfere. Binns took a long, final look round, and drifted down to face Harry directly.

“End this, Harry Potter. Let me rest.”

Harry drew his wand, and bowed. “Thank you for all that you have done for Hogwarts, Professor Binns,” he said. “You have served well.”

He couldn’t help but let some of his old authority enter his voice. Binns’ eyes widened, and even more so when Harry started to gather his magic. He glanced at Cedric, and then back at Harry, and his wrinkled face creased into a faint smile.

“It appears I will miss a very interesting few years,” he murmured. “But then, I will have adventures of my own.” He bowed back. “Farewell, Harry Potter.”

Harry took a deep breath, and began the incantation. A deep blue light began to emanate from the tip of his wand, faint at first, but growing steadily brighter. He concentrated on the rush of magic, and only looked up when the spell reached its climax.

There was a smile on Binns’ face as he looked back, and then he was gone.

The light faded, and Harry slowly lowered his wand. For a moment he stood there, then shook himself and glanced at Cedric.

“We should go,” he said quietly. “We don’t want people to notice your absence.”

Cedric stared at him for a long second, then shook his head. He left the room without another word. Harry took a final glance at the spot where Binns had disappeared before following.

Cedric was very subdued as they made their way back through the corridors. Harry didn’t feel much like talking himself, and it wasn’t until they were back in the Room of Requirement that Cedric finally looked at him.

“He was so different,” he said quietly. “From Helena, and the Friar, and...” He trailed off, with a grimace.

Harry sighed. “He had lost his purpose. Helena and Edmund cannot find peace, and so cannot rest, and the other ghosts are much more involved with their students. For now, they are content.”

It was not an existence he would ever choose for himself, the very idea was unbearable, but he had seen how the ghosts of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff still took pleasure from their existence. Cedric still looked pale though, and Harry nudged him.

“Binns chose to move on.”

Cedric snorted. “After you gave him so much choice in the matter.” Harry drew back, but Cedric was already shaking his head. “I’m sorry. You remain as persuasive as ever.”

Harry eyed him for a moment, before deciding to let it go. His friend had always taken a different approach to himself. It was one of the reasons they worked so well together. Instead he leaned back in his chair.

“You can stop going easy on me when we spar tomorrow.”

Cedric blinked, then finally a faint smile touched his face. “If you insist.”

He met Harry’s eyes briefly in silent acknowledgement, then sighed and pushed himself up. “I should go and rescue the house-elves. Two hours of dealing with the Weasley Twins is enough to test the most patient of people.”

Harry squashed the by now familiar but still unwelcome surge of jealousy and nodded. “Good. They’ll be missing you soon.”

Cedric clapped him on the shoulder. “Tomorrow morning then. We still need to talk about Snape.”

Harry pulled a face, and Cedric laughed. “I feel exactly the same way.”

Harry watched him go with a smile, feeling better than he had in a while. They had finally done something that would benefit their school. Hopefully it wouldn’t be the only such intervention.

Speaking of which... Harry sighed, and tilted his head back.

“All right,” he said out loud. “Let’s get started on all this rubbish.”

A moment later he was surrounded by a millennia’s worth of forgotten belongings, and he sighed.

“The things I do for this school.”


	8. Consequences

Cedric stared at the silver ornament, frowned, tilted his head to one side, and squinted some more.

"Is it a duck?"

Harry lowered the item and gave him a look. "A duck."

Cedric threw up his hands. "I don't know! You're the one who's been looking into the thing, why don't you tell me?"

"Why do you think I was asking?" Harry shot back. "Either someone got bored halfway through, or they were far too drunk to be working with precious metals." He paused. "However, it does appear to be solid silver, so we can always melt it down and use it for something else."

Cedric watched him send it to the part of the Room they had set aside for potentially useful things, and stared at round at the stacks. "Well, you're making progress. You should be done by, I don't know, the time we finish Hogwarts?"

Harry pulled a face at him. If the last three weeks had taught him anything, it was that this was not a job for one person. "Ro was always better at this sort of thing than me," he muttered. "It'll be quicker with all four of us."

Cedric eyed him a moment, then grabbed his cloak from the back of the chair. "Come on."

"What-"

"You've been stuck inside all day, and Helga always said that wasn't good for you."

"I went for a run this morning," Harry shot back, but his protestations were half-hearted at best. After being stuck in the castle all day he was more than ready for some fresh air.

"Feels good to have so much energy, doesn't it," said Cedric, as they made their way down the stairs.

Harry snorted. For all that being eleven again was incredibly frustrating, it did have its benefits. Even with Helga's skill at healing, some wounds just didn't heal completely. To be free of all the old aches and pains was a blessing.

Sneaking out of the castle wasn't difficult for the people who had made it, and the two of them were soon strolling round the edge of the lake in companionable silence. The temperature was starting to fall as winter set in, but not unbearably so, and the dreaded snow had yet to set in.

They had made a complete circuit around the lake when Cedric finally spoke.

"Have you thought about what we talked about before."

Harry sighed, his good mood plummeting. "Of course I have." He kicked at a stone, pausing to watch the ripples it made as it disappeared into the water. "He is clearly a terrible teacher."

"But he keeps the students safe," said Cedric. "And the ones that enjoy Potions and can work with him go on to do very well indeed."

"But that's not the way it should be," Harry insisted. "It's fine to be able to get good work out of those who have the enthusiasm and aptitude, but children shouldn't be terrified of going to a class because they know the teacher is going to mock their every effort."

Cedric's jaw tightened. They had hit upon the crux of the matter there. Severus Snape was an incredibly talented Potions Master, and his NEWT level students were a credit to the school, but the man was a truly abysmal teacher for the average student.

An owl flew over their heads and Harry tilted his head to watch it. It disappeared into the clouds, and he sighed.

"I don't know what we can do about him."

It was a difficult thing to admit. As nice as it was to be a child again, the lack of influence over his beloved school was becoming increasingly draining. In spite of all his memories and knowledge, there was only so much a nine year old could do.

From the expression on Cedric's face, being an eleven year old wasn't much better.

"Nothing, at the moment," he grunted. He leaned against a tree and stared out over the lake. "I've talked to the older students. His behaviour has earned complaints in the past, but nothing has ever come of them."

Harry gritted his teeth. "So all we can do is wait."

The words left a bitter taste in his mouth, but Salazar had always been a pragmatist.

And he was very good at biding his time.

* * *

Minerva settled herself into an armchair and allowed herself a contented sigh. Her cup of tea was warm in her hands, it's fragrance soothing as only tea could be, and for one blissful moment, Minerva was able to put the stress of dealing with four hundred magical teenagers aside. Across the table, Filius and Septima were discussing spellcrafting, with occasional input from Severus, while Pomona and Poppy debated the optimal conditions for the harvesting of dittany.

All conversation faded into respectful silence the moment Albus Dumbledore entered the room though. The Headmaster smiled round the room, but the customary twinkle was missing from his eyes.

"Good afternoon," he greeted them. He settled himself in the chair at the head of the table, and steepled his fingers. "I will not keep you long. I merely wish to inform you of the results of our investigation."

Minerva set her cup back in its saucer, and leaned forwards. Albus' smile faded. "Neither myself, nor Head Auror Scrimgeour were able to find any clue as to the identity of the exorcist of Professor Binns."

Minerva closed her eyes as murmuring erupted around her. She and Albus had spent many hours discussing possible theories, but the list of people who could exorcise a ghost without leaving a trace, let alone enter and leave Hogwarts undetected was short to say the least. No student could have the power or skill to challenge a ghost of Binns' age, and certainly no other teacher would dream of doing so. Albus caught her eye, and raised a hand for silence.

"However, I did invite an representative from the Spirits Division to inspect the scene of the crime." He paused, probably to build up tension. Albus always did have a flair for the dramatic. "She was able to identify the spell used as one that required the ghost's agreement in order to send them on."

There was a stunned silence, then a booming voice rang out. "Absurd!"

Minerva wasn't the only one to wince at the volume. Herbert Runcorn was a perfectly adequate Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor, but he didn't seem to comprehend the notion of an indoor voice. His perpetually red face was set in a scowl as he folded his arms. "Why would any ghost choose to be exorcised? Binns has taught at this school for generations, for Merlin's sake."

"Perhaps a better question would be why did the perpetrator choose a spell that required Binns' agreement?" said Filius thoughtfully. "It is far simpler to force a spirit on than to convince them to move on of their own accord."

Runcorn shook his head with a snort. "Must have lacked the strength. That would explain why they took such pains not to be noticed, they never would have prevailed in a struggle."

"So we have a magically weak witch or wizard capable of infiltrating Hogwarts, convincing a strongly established ghost to depart, and vanishing without a trace?" Minerva summarised. She wasn't quite able to keep her disbelief from her voice, and saw her own doubts mirrored on many of her colleagues' faces. Albus sighed.

"I have relayed our theories to the Auror Department, and they will be looking into the matter. In the meantime, I have been searching for a replacement for History of Magic."

"Good," said Minerva firmly. She and the others had been taking it in turns to cover those sessions, with help from the few seventh years who had actually continued the subject to NEWT level, but they really had enough to be getting on with with their own classes.

Albus nodded. "I have written to my old friend, Bathilda Bagshot. Her great-great-great," He paused a moment, eyes twinkling. "Now, was there another great?"

"Albus," said Minerva dryly. She saw Filius cover a smile with a hand, and Septima and Severus exchange withering looks, but Albus' eyes twinkled even more brightly.

"Of course, Minerva. In any case, her niece, Belinda, received an Outstanding in her History of Magic NEWT with us."

"Yes, she was one of mine," said Pomona. "She's spent the last four years at the University of Alexandria, she still writes every few months."

Minerva nodded thoughtfully. She too could remember young Belinda, and a more different personality to Binns could scarcely be imagined. "And she would be willing to cover for the rest of the term?"

Albus inclined his head. "I am still waiting for her confirmation owl, but she indicated that she would be happy to fill in for the rest of the term. She would be more than welcome to stay on, of course, but should she choose to return to research I will have ample time to find a replacement."

There was a murmur of approval. Professor Runcorn let out a braying laugh. "And you thought it was the Defence teachers that you would have problems keeping!"

Filius leaned away, rubbing his ear wearily, but Albus just smiled. "Indeed, I do hope this will be the end of our staffing troubles for the year."

"Unless whoever disposed of Binns so efficiently turns their attention elsewhere."

Severus did have a knack for lowering the mood, Minerva reflected. Albus' eyes narrowed. "They were able to successfully infiltrate Hogwarts, and yet their sole aim appears to have been to exorcise a single ghost. I doubt that they will return."

Severus acknowledged the point with a nod, but he wasn't quite finished. "And yet we have no clues as to their identity. Or what their purpose is."

Albus was silent for several seconds, and Minerva had to fight back a shiver at the ice in his eyes. It was easy to forget that the eccentric old man was one of the most powerful wizards in the world. Eventually though, Albus visibly relaxed.

"Well, we will remain alert. With time and patience, I am sure that the truth will be revealed." He leaned back in his chair, and favoured them all with a genial smile. "And on to more pleasant matters. How are our new first years getting on?"

Pomona brightened, and leaned forwards. "Very well, as far as I can tell. One of mine, Cedric Diggory, has settled in marvellously."

Minerva had taken note of that boy herself, and said so. "He has been at the top of his class from the first day. I've never seen anyone master the initial lessons so quickly."

"His Charms work is equally impressive," Filius chipped in. "His questions and essays show an almost intuitive understanding of the fundamentals, and he's already starting to draw upon theories I don't usually touch on until third year."

Runcorn harrumphed loudly. "Lad's a bit too enthusiastic in my classes. Still, I wouldn't mind hexing those twins myself sometimes, and he's executing every jinx perfectly after a single demonstration."

Pomona was smiling widely enough that her cheeks had to be hurting. Minerva raised an enquiring eyebrow at Severus, who merely snorted.

"The boy is not entirely incompetent."

Pomona rolled her eyes. "Thank you for that assessment, Severus." Ignoring his sneer, she turned to Albus. "In all seriousness, Cedric is picking up the material remarkably quickly. We may have to think about some more advanced instruction in the future."

Albus stroked his beard thoughtfully, and nodded. "Let us see how he does this year. It is not healthy for students to spend their most enjoyable years trying to cram as much information into their heads as fast as possible."

Pomona was the first to voice her agreement, and Albus turned twinkling eyes to Minerva. "And I hear the young Weasley twins are making their mark."

"The brats are a menace!" Severus exploded.

"They have yet to fail a single exercise in my classes," Minerva shot back. Not that she couldn't understand where her colleague was coming from, but it was only fair to let Albus get an accurate picture.

"They are disrespectful, arrogant, foolhardy-"

"Now, Severus, my boy-"

"Severus, you can hardly complain about the Weasley twins when I spent two hours stripping down brooms after those second years of yours tried to sneak in extra practices," Rolanda put in.

"That is completely beside the point!"

Minerva raised an eyebrow at the developing discussion, but contented herself with pouring another cup of tea. At least the rest of the term could only be more peaceful.

* * *

Fred looked at George. George looked at Fred.

"You know what I'm thinking?"

"I'm quite sure I do."

"I think further investigations are necessary, George."

"I couldn't agree more, Fred."

Fred leaned on the bannister, and watched the two small figures do a not quite good enough job of sneaking into the school undetected. "Where has old Ceddy been without us?"

George's attention was on the unfamiliar black-haired boy with his friend. Even as he watched, the two separated, and the stranger was swallowed up in the shadows of the dungeons. "He's been keeping secrets from us," he said quietly.

The two looked at each other again, then back at Cedric, who was making his way towards the passage leading to the Hufflepuff Basement. Cheerful whistling floated up to them, and George elbowed his twin.

"C'mon. Let's get back to the Common Room."

Fred turned to follow him, his brown eyes gleaming. "Yes, let's. We've got a project to get started."

* * *

Albus stroked Fawkes' brilliant plumage, and stared at the array of instruments on his desk, and sighed.

"It has been an eventful few months, my friend," he murmured.

He had never anticipated losing Cuthbert Binns. The ghost had been a fixture at Hogwarts for centuries. The very idea that someone might exorcise him had been unthinkable, and yet it had happened. That whoever had done so had managed to enter and leave Hogwarts undetected only made matters worse. Amelia Bones had not been pleased, and Albus had been forced to disclose more details about Hogwarts' wards and their security in order to placate her. It was extremely fortunate that whoever was responsible had chosen to only persuade Binns, and had not interacted in any way with any other staff or students.

And that wasn't the only issue of concern. There was still that unexplained explosion of magic over the summer, the curious excitement of the house-elves, the air of almost tangible expectancy that seemed to come from the very castle.

There was the disappearance of Harry Potter.

The monitor on Albus' desk hadn't changed since that fateful morning. Harry was still safe and well, but beyond that, Albus knew nothing.

Albus had even made discreet inquiries among Lily and James' old friends. If anyone had gone to check on the boy, and for some reason decided to remove him from the Dursleys' custody, it was likely to be someone acquainted with the couple, but all of Albus' most subtle probing had resulted in failure.

In the case of Remus Lupin, Albus was beginning to suspect that he had actually done more harm than good. His old student had been both surprised by and wary of the sudden interest, and Albus' inability to answer any of Remus' own questions had caused some understandable frustration. Albus could only hope that the young man wouldn't take matters into his own hands.

Fawkes let out a reassuring trill, and Albus smiled down at his friend.

"I am getting far too old for this."


	9. Rough Patch

After all the excitement of the start of term, the next few weeks were almost boring in comparison. Harry trained with Cedric, read books, and attempted to clear out the piles of useless items in the Room of Requirement, but despite his best efforts none of it was enough to keep his mind occupied.

Eventually, the frustration became too much.

"Where have you been?"

Cedric's cheeks were flushed with excitement, but he offered Harry an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Harry. The twins were waiting for me again."

Harry scowled. The Weasley twins had somehow caught on to the fact that Cedric wasn't always where he said he was, and had spent the past month trying to find out what was going on. Having finally realised that Cedric was far too good at disappearing during the day, they had begun waiting for him by the Hufflepuff Basement each morning, which made it very difficult for Cedric to get to the Room of Requirement for their morning sparring sessions. With their time together limited as it was, the interference was getting on Harry's nerves.

Oblivious to Harry's rising irritation, Cedric was still chatting away happily, "It's pretty impressive actually, they've already found two of our secret passages. I think Bill did give them some hints, but I'm sure none of our first years ever found any that fast."

"Probably because ours were too busy with useful things," Harry muttered. "Like their studies, and trying not to get burnt alive by Muggles."

Cedric's eyes narrowed. He studied Harry for a long minute, then sighed, and folded his arms. "All right, what's the matter with you?"

Harry stared hard at the open book in his hands. "Nothing." He turned a page, only to have the book abruptly Summoned out of his hands. "Don't do that to Rowena or she will hex you. Actually do it, I could use the laugh."

Cedric didn't take the bait. He set the book carefully on the desk before looking back at Harry. "You think I'm spending too much time with my other friends."

The word choice was deliberate, and Harry wasn't quite able to hide his frown. Cedric sighed again, and ran a hand through his dark hair. "They're my classmates, Harry. I can't exactly avoid them."

Harry choked back a biting retort with an effort, and instead Summoned his book back. "I know that."

Cedric sighed, then came to crouch in front of Harry. "I know this is hard for you," he said gently. "I'd hate being cooped up in here too, especially after...after everything, but as much as I want to spend more time here, I can't. Fred and George already know that something is going on."

"Then you should have been more careful," Harry snapped.

Cedric's face flushed. "Don't judge me, Sal. You're not the one having to pretend to be an eleven year old every day!"

Harry blinked, but Cedric had apparently reached the limits of his own patience. "You don't have to sit in class and act like you couldn't teach the entire curriculum. You don't have to think about every word you say in case someone notices you're hiding an entire other life. You're not the one juggling two different lives while worrying about whether the other two most important people in your life will ever join you!"

Harry was on his feet before he even knew what was happening. "Don't you dare think I've forgotten them," he snarled. "At least you have some distractions. All I have is the knowledge that I can't leave here because I have literally nowhere to go, my parents are dead, my only other living relatives despise me, and my only friend has new and better friends to spend his time with."

The temperature in the room rose abruptly, and Harry knew he had gone too far but he suddenly didn't care. Cedric's eyes met his, wide with hurt and anger, but then Harry was gone, down into the Chamber of Secrets, where Cedric knew better than to follow him. The Chamber had always been Salazar's sanctuary, and both of them knew better than to seek the other out when tempers had risen so high.

Harry stood still for several seconds, trying to control the emotions swirling within him. His anger with his friend was rapidly being replaced with shame. Cedric was allowed to have other friends. He needed to have other friends. Harry had always been a loner, and was quite happy with Cedric and Hogwarts, but Godric had always thrived on company. He was at his best when he was supporting and encouraging others.

Jealousy was not an attractive character trait, Harry reflected bitterly. He slumped against one of the ancient columns, uncaring of the damp seeping into his robes as guilt settled heavy in his stomach.

He had sworn that this life would be different, and yet here he was, as self-destructive as before.

Hogwarts' presence brushed his mind in quiet reassurance, but as much as Harry appreciated the gesture he couldn't respond to it. He tilted his head back against the rough stone, letting his gaze wander over his grandfather's carved features.

"I am sorry," he whispered.

If his grandfather knew what had become of their family name...

Harry sighed, and pushed himself back to his feet. It was easier to think on the move in this life. He paced down the broad walkway, ignoring the foul-smelling puddles, and trying to let go of his anger. The Weasleys were not a threat to him. He and Godric shared a bond forged over a lifetime. A new childhood friendship was nothing to be jealous of.

Salazar had never been very rational when it came to his friends. Harry had to be better.

He stopped at the base of his grandfather's statue. For a moment he stood still, paralysed by indecision. His mind was clear again, but he wasn't ready to face Cedric just yet. The other boy would probably have gone to classes by now anyway. There was nothing urgent demanding his attention, and he needed a break from digging through the rubbish in the Room of Requirement.

Harry sighed, and laid a hand on the base of his grandfather's statue. A pulse of magic released the wards, and he watched in approval as the stone slab slid aside as smoothly as it had done a thousand years ago. The passage was dark and smelled strongly of damp, but a Lumos and Bubble-Head Charm dealt with that. A minute later he emerged into a much larger cavern, and he stopped short.

Issa had grown. Salazar had expected that. Herpo the Foul's Basilisk had lived for hundreds of years, and had continued to grow fairly steadily all that time.

Seeing it in person was something else.

Harry rested a trembling hand against the green scales. Issa had to be at least sixty feet long. Her eyes were closed, and judging by the layer of dust coating her coils it had been some time since she was last out and about. Harry could hardly blame her. For one thing, it was hard to imagine the amount she would have to eat to remain as active as she had been when she was the size of his arm.

Harry sighed, and stepped back. Issa would wake in time. She was alive and well, and ready to be called upon to defend Hogwarts. That was enough for now.

It didn't matter that the ache in his chest was growing more painful. Harry took a deep breath. He needed to talk to Cedric, but Cedric was in class, and Harry had to do something, anything, to keep his mind off how much of a mess he was. He started to retrace his steps through to the main chamber, then paused.

The rest of the side passages were free of dust.

Harry frowned. He had set various spells to try to keep this place in an acceptable creation, but not even his spellwork should have lasted for hundreds of years. Someone had cast new ones, and fairly recently.

Harry bit his lip. He had shown Murtagh the Chamber, and his nephew had sworn to make sure it was maintained, but there were items in here that had the power to cause unimaginable amounts of harm. They had been locked away behind the strongest wards he could create, but if that magic had degraded too...

At least he had something to keep him occupied until Cedric finished classes.

* * *

It took all of Remus Lupin's considerable self-control to contain his fury until after Petunia shut the door. He hadn't known Lily's sister well, for some strange reason Lily had been reluctant to let them spend much time with her, but he had expected better than this.

How bad must things have been for Harry to have run away?

Petunia had told him everything. Remus had even detected a trace of guilt in her eyes, despite her clipped tones, but he couldn't find it in him to have much sympathy for her. It had been an effort just to control his temper, but getting sent to Azkaban for hexing Muggles would hardly help Harry.

Remus' steps faltered. From what little he'd been able to get out of Albus he knew that Harry wasn't with any of James or Lily's other friends. But there was one person that Albus might have missed.

Even after eight years, thinking of Sirius Black was enough to make Remus' vision tint red. He hadn't been able to see Black after his arrest for fear of murdering him on the spot. The very thought that their oldest friend could betray them like that...

With an effort, Remus forced his mind back to the matter at hand. Black had been Voldemort's right-hand man, but Remus knew him. Sirius had always been impetuous and headstrong, but he had never been stupid. He must have known that there was a possibility that Voldemort could be defeated. There was a chance that he had laid contingency plans.

Remus let out a long breath. It was a long shot. Black almost certainly knew nothing. It still had to be worth a try.

And maybe Remus would finally get some answers.

* * *

There were a lot of frustrating things about being eleven again. Knowing the curriculum inside out. Being summarily dismissed whenever he tried to take an interest in anything outside of school and sports. Being short.

One thing Cedric had forgotten was how easily distracted children he were. He knew he was supposed to be listening to Professor McGonagall, but he honestly couldn't care less about Switching Spells. Not even the advanced versions that McGonagall had set him working on after he completed the set work in ten minutes in an effort to keep him busy.

Cedric hated fighting with his friends. He might have bickered with Salazar and the others constantly, but proper fights were rare. And now, after spending years living without Salazar only to find him again like this...

Cedric's forehead hit the desk with a thud. This wasn't easy for him, and he had grown up with a loving magical family. Salazar was Harry Potter, and Cedric was the only person he had. The only living person anyway.

Cedric had to talk to him. He had to make things right.

"Mister Diggory."

Cedric jerked up in time to find McGonagall looming over his desk. Her lips were pinched, and the look she gave him was so reminiscent of Rowena that Cedric had to swallow down the lump in his throat.

"Yes, Professor?"

McGonagall's eyes narrowed. "Is something the matter, Mister Diggory? I only ask because we are forty minutes into class, and your matchbox and quill remain quite unswitched."

Cedric felt his cheeks heat up, and he ducked his head. "Sorry, Professor, I've been distracted." He waved his wand, remembering at the last moment to actually verbalise the incantation, and watched as the quill gained matchstick strands.

McGonagall's eyebrows shot up. "Very impressive, Mister Diggory. Five points to Hufflepuff."

Cedric spotted his housemates exchange grins out of the corner of his eye, but it failed to lift his spirits. "Thank you, Professor."

McGonagall held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded to herself. "See me after class, Mister Diggory. And in the meantime, perhaps you wouldn't mind assisting Mister Summerby?"

Cedric blinked, his eggs and toast suddenly sitting very heavily in his stomach. The last thing he needed was for people to get suspicious in his very first term. Hopefully he hadn't done anything that would seem beyond the capabilities of a gifted eleven year old.

At least he finally had something to keep him distracted. He had really missed teaching. Summerby gave him a bright, relieved smile, and Cedric forced his own problems to one side. He had work to do.

By the time class finished, Cedric had secured Summerby's everlasting gratitude, and twenty more points for Hufflepuff. More than one person patted him on the back as they left the room, and as little as Cedric cared about the competition it was nice to see his friends in good spirits. It wasn't enough to make him forget his worries though, and his stomach was a ball of nerves as he stepped up to McGonagall's desk.

"You wanted to speak to me, Professor?"

"Yes, Mister Diggory." She placed a stack of papers to one side, and peered at him over her glasses. "I hope you understand that while Professor Sprout is your Head of House, you may come to any teacher, should you require assistance. Including myself."

Cedric blinked. That had not been what he was expecting. Warmth flooded his chest, and he smiled. "Thank you, Professor. I'm sorry I was a bit distracted before." He hesitated, then realised he didn't actually need to lie. "I got into a fight with a friend, but I'm going to fix it."

McGonagall studied him for a long minute, and then to Cedric's surprise her stern face relaxed into a smile. "That is a very mature attitude, Mister Diggory. See that you do."

Cedric recognised the dismissal, and gave her a respectful nod before leaving the room. At least he knew that his House was in good hands.

Now all he had to do was talk to Harry.

Easier said than done, especially when he caught a flash of bright red hair in the corridor. Cedric swore under his breath, and ducked in between a pair of older students. He was going to be in for it the next time he saw the twins, but he couldn't find it in him to care. Right now, Salazar was more important. He ducked into a secret passage he was sure Fred and George didn't know about, and closed his eyes.

' _Hogwarts?'_

The familiar warmth enveloped his mind and soul, and despite his rising stress levels, Cedric had to smile. It was good to be home. ' _Yes, Godric?'_

' _Where is he? The Chamber?'_

' _Of course. You'll no doubt be pleased to hear that Issa is asleep.'_

Cedric shuddered. ' _Thank you.'_

There was no point in wasting time. Classes were done for the day, and he couldn't think of eating when things were so unsettled. He also knew better than to let Salazar spend too much time brooding.

Cedric sighed, and willed himself to the Chamber.

The place was...not how he remembered it. Salazar must have been apoplectic. Godric cleared the dingy water from the path with a wave of his wand, and squinted round.

"Salazar? Are you here?"

He was disappointed, but not particularly surprised when he didn't receive a reply. There was no sign of anyone in the main chamber, and he changed direction to head for the side passages.

"Salazar, I'm sorry," he tried again. "Can you come out? We need to talk."

There was a faint crash, and Cedric broke into a run. "Salazar?"

He dashed around the corner fast enough that he skidded on the damp stone, and had to catch the wall to stay upright. "Damn it!"

There was another crash, and then a head of messy black hair appeared round the nearest doorway. "Cedric? What are you doing down here?"

"There you are!" He straightened his robes with a frown. "What do you think? I came to apologise."

Harry bit his lip. "Cedric-"

"Please, Harry, let me finish. I shouldn't have lost my temper."

"Neither should I," Harry pointed out. He looked away, eyes falling to the floor. "I was jealous and stupid, and I never should have gotten so upset about your other friends."

"No," Cedric agreed. He crossed the room to grip Harry's shoulder. "But I understand. I know...I know things haven't been easy for you. Even more so this time round. But I'm here now, and no matter what happens I'm staying. Nothing, and no one, can change that."

Harry stared up at him, his green eyes impossibly large in his thin face, and Cedric pulled him in for a hug.

"You're my brother, Salazar. I've known you for decades." He felt Harry twitch in his arms, and hugged him tighter. "I know you," he whispered. "I didn't go anywhere back then, and I'm not going anywhere now."

Slowly, Harry's arms wrapped around Cedric's waist and he hugged back, tentatively at first but then so hard it was almost painful. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Cedric closed his eyes. They would be fine, just like they always were. He would get better at making time for Harry, and Harry would stop being quite so possessive. They only had to do this for two years, and then they could forget about the secrecy. They would be fine.

Harry let out a shaky breath and stepped back.

"I'm glad you came down here."

Cedric ruffled his hair. "Me too."

"Not because of this," said Harry quickly. "Well, not just because of it anyway."

Unease started to coil in Cedric's stomach. "What are you talking about?"

Harry looked around, his face as grim as Cedric had ever seen it. "Someone has been down here. Recently."

Cedric felt the blood drain from his face. Only someone of Salazar's blood could enter here, and considering what they had been able to trace of his family, and what was generally assumed of Slytherins in this time...

Harry caught his eye and nodded. "We have to work out what they did."

Dinner could wait. If Cedric's suspicions were correct, neither of them would be feeling much like eating.


	10. Chapter 10

The Chamber of Secrets used to be one of Salazar's favourite places in Hogwarts. The other Founders had contributed to its construction of course, but Salazar had designed it and placed the wards that would keep it secure, and it was his, just like the Room was Rowena's. The others were welcome, and always would be, but the Chamber was his.

After the past couple of weeks, Harry was beginning to wish that he never had to set foot in there again.

The place had been ransacked. All the cursed weapons and objects that he had Godric had spent so long hunting down were gone. Admittedly, some of them were more like trinkets that Rowena had asked them to keep away from their students, but too many could cause serious harm. There was a reason Salazar had made these wards so powerful.

Worse still, the books were gone.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, and Harry was tired enough to lean into the touch.

"Have you been down here all night?"

Harry shrugged. "If it's morning, then yes. Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Not yet, and we were worried about you," said Cedric gently. He settled down on the floor next to Harry and stretched his legs out. "You can't keep brooding down here."

"I know," Harry muttered. "But I can't be out searching for whoever was stupid enough to take those books either. I can't do anything."

Objectively he knew he was being ridiculous. There was no way of telling when the Chamber had been raided, or what had happened to everything that had been taken, but Harry couldn't help it. The rituals in those books were dangerous. They had been dangerous a thousand years ago, and with the advances that had been made since...

Cedric sighed. "I know. It's maddening. But we just can't do anything yet." He looped an arm round Harry's shoulders. "And remember that this time its not just people like us dealing with such threats. There's an entire branch of the government dedicated to protecting people. We have to trust them until we're older."

Harry scowled. Trust had never been one of his strong points, but Cedric was right. There simply wasn't anything they could do. Maybe when Helga and Rowena arrived...

"At least it'll be Christmas soon," said Cedric. "We'll have to work out what we're going to do."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Thanks to the Dursleys he cared for Christmas even less than he had in his first life. "We're only two weeks into November," he pointed out. "We've got more pressing matters to worry about."

"Actually, we don't," said Cedric gently. "We're children, remember? We've dealt with Binns, Bagshott has settled down and is an excellent teacher, our students are safe, and this is our first Christmas in centuries. We need a break."

Harry just scowled at the floor. Cedric sighed, and disentangled himself from Harry and stood up. "Look, I've got class, but this isn't over. Also, Helena wants to talk to you."

That was enough to break Harry's attention from his bad mood. "What? Why?"

"How about you ask her, and find out." He reached down to pull Harry to his feet, but didn't let go straight away. "I know how important this is to you," he said softly, "but you can't spend the next two years dwelling on things you can't change."

Harry let out a soft snort. "Of course I could. Dwelling on things I can't change is one of my specialities."

Cedric rolled his eyes. "Why did I miss him?" he asked, and Harry felt Hogwarts' amusement echo in his own mind. He aimed a half-hearted kick that his friend dodged easily. "See? You've spent so long brooding that you're getting slow."

"All right, all right," Harry grumbled. "You've made your point. I'll stop coming down here as much."

That didn't mean he would stop thinking about it, and judging from the gleam in Cedric's eyes the older boy knew it, but it was a start. Harry closed his eyes and willed himself back to the Room of Requirement. The piles of rubbish didn't do much to improve his mood.

The was a faint crack as Cedric appeared next to him. The older boy sighed.

"I've got to get to Herbology, but please try to stop obsessing. Go and find Helena, that'll cheer you up."

Harry wasn't sure seeing the ghost of his surrogate niece would do much to cheer up him up, but he managed to refrain from saying so. Cedric squeezed his shoulder. "I'll see you this evening, all right?"

"Thanks," Harry mumbled.

Cedric clapped him on the back and headed off, though not without a worried backward look. Harry sighed. He had caused Godric enough stress in his first life. He forced his own frustrations to the side and headed out after his friend. Time to see what Helena needed.

* * *

Alastor Moody wasn't one to dwell on the past. He was an Auror, and knew damn well that regrets were a waste of time. Far better to focus on the task at hand.

That didn't stop him occasionally cursing the Death Eaters that had cost him his leg. He kicked aside the chair that had threatened to entangle his prosthesis, and rapped on the office doorframe.

"Got a minute?"

Scrimgeour snorted. "But, Alastor, don't you know how much I love reviewing Ministerial audits?" He shoved the papers aside with a contemptuous flick of his hand, and waved Alastor to a chair. "Paper-pushing imbeciles."

Alastor smirked as he eased his aching body into the proffered seat. "Told you taking that job was a mistake."

"So you did," Scrimgeour grumbled. "And every other day since." He looked at the papers like he wanted to incinerate them, before reluctantly shaking his head and glancing back at Alastor. "Anyway. What do you need?"

Alastor hesitated. He had served alongside Scrimgeour for years, and considered the younger wizard a friend as well as a comrade, but this was tricky. Scrimgeour, like Amelia Bones, had made his views on independent action very clear during the War. There was a good chance of this sparking old arguments.

But then, Scrimgeour had also understood what had to be done, and despite refusing to align with Dumbledore and the Order, he had turned a blind eye to others doing so. He had even passed along key information at times, though always with the proviso that no one else should know how a humble Auror came by such details.

When it came down to it, Alastor trusted Scrimgeour, and that wasn't something to be taken lightly.

"I've just had an interesting conversation," he began, "with Remus Lupin."

Scrimgeour cocked his head to one side, but he said nothing and Alastor continued, "He is requesting a visit with Sirius Black."

Scrimgeour's amber eyes narrowed. "I see."

Alastor grunted. It had been nearly seven years since Black's incarceration, and in all that time the Death Eater had never had a single visitor. Alastor himself had never even considered the idea, partly, he had to admit, out of wounded pride. He had badly misjudged Black, and the Potters had paid the price. He should have known better.

"Did Lupin give a reason?"

Alastor pulled himself back to the present, and shook his head. "Just that he wanted an explanation."

"Wouldn't we all?" Scrimgeour muttered. He ran a hand through his hair and scowled at Alastor. "You knew them. What do you think?"

Alastor scratched at his mutilated nose. "He was telling the truth." All the young ones had quickly learned better than to try lying to him, and Lupin had always had the most common sense of his friends. "But he was hiding something. He was worried."

He didn't say anything else. He didn't need to. Scrimgeour met his eyes, and nodded. "The visit is approved. You will supervise."

Alastor nodded, but a glance from Scrimgeour kept him in his seat. The Head Auror's face was as grim as Alastor had ever seen it. "Black was You-Know-Who's right hand man," he said quietly. "If there is anyone who might have knowledge of any other plans, it's Black."

Alastor just nodded again. They had fought one war. They would do whatever it took to avoid a second.

* * *

Tracking down a ghost wasn't as difficult as it sounded. At least not if one was intimately connected to Hogwarts' wards, and had the full cooperation of the castle itself. It also helped when one had known the ghost in question since she was born, and knew every one of her favourite hiding spots.

Harry weaved in and out of the crowds of students, easily going unnoticed in the chaos. The crowds made his skin itch, but he couldn't deny that the anonymity was a welcome change. It probably wouldn't last long once he officially arrived and everyone knew who he was, and Harry fully intended to make the most of it until then.

It didn't take long to leave the students behind. Harry ducked down secret passages and climbed hidden staircases that had long lain undisturbed, judging from the thick layers of dust, until he finally emerged onto a small balcony overlooking the northernmost staircase.

The torches were lit as always, but Helena's shimmering form still drew Harry's eye. Her face was still set in the mask of grim sadness that Harry had become so familiar with over the past few months, and the sight made his chest ache. What had happened to the laughing child who had clung to his ankles and helped him throw snowballs at Godric? He shook the thought away and stepped forward.

"Helena?"

Ghosts couldn't exactly jump, but Helena did turn to him. "Uncle."

"You wanted to see me?" said Harry slowly. There was something wrong here. Helena was avoiding his gaze in the exact same way she used to when she had been hiding something from him as a child. "What's wrong?"

The faintest trace of a smile touched Helena's face. "I never could get anything past you." She sighed, and looked him straight in the eye. "The last boy who opened your Chamber."

Harry froze. "What of him?"

"I...I spoke to him once. About who I am. And about Edmund."

Harry stared at her. Over the last couple of months he had watched Helena interact with the students. Though always polite and helpful, at least to the Ravenclaws, she kept everyone at a distance. Even with Professor Flitwick, she remained cordial at best.

He couldn't imagine her telling anyone about her death.

And if the one person he had told had also had the ability to enter the Chamber of Secrets...

"He was interested in you," Helena said softly. "All four of you. What descendants you had, what magic you created, the items you made, he wanted to know everything." She looked away. "He was very charming, and it...it had been a long time."

Harry closed his eyes. "I understand." If he had been on his own for a thousand years, he might want to talk to someone now and then too. He forced the thought away and looked back at her. "What else can you tell me about him?"

Helena frowned. "Very little. He was a Slytherin. He was particularly interested in you. He applied for the post of Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher after leaving, but Headmaster Dumbledore refused."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"I do not know," said Helena. "I don't think he trusted him." She hesitated. "There is something else, Salazar. It...you will not like to hear this."

"What else is new?" Harry muttered. "Tell me."

Helena bit her lip. "He didn't just open the Chamber."

Harry stared at her, and then everything fell into place with horrifying clarity. "He believed what they say about me. He believed what they say the Chamber was built for."

Nausea swirled in his gut, and he sat down before his knees gave out. The pounding of blood in his ears was deafening, and every breath burned in his lungs. What had Selene's descendent done? How had everything gone so wrong?

Then he barely choked back a cry as something icy cold touched the back of his neck. He jerked away, and only then became aware of Helena's voice, shrill with barely-contained panic.

"-for me, Salazar, you have to breathe. You need to calm down."

He was scaring her. Harry sucked in a desperate gasp of air, and was rewarded with a relieved prayer. "That's it, Salazar. Everything is all right."

"No," Harry whispered. "No, it isn't."

His Chamber had been opened and used for the opposite of its intended purpose. Harry had read enough to know what scholars had assumed Issa was for. The lump in his throat threatened to choke off his speech, but he had to know. "Was...was anyone hurt?"

Helena's silence was all the answer he needed. Harry buried his face in his arms. "He hurt my students."

Worse still, he had used Issa to hurt students. Harry tasted bile in the back of his throat, and concentrated on the pain of his nails digging into his palms to keep from throwing up. Everything good thing he had tried to do for the school had gone wrong.

"This wasn't your fault, Salazar," Helena whispered.

"I was the one who hid a Basilisk in my school," Harry growled. "I should have known better. Rowena and Godric were right."

"You couldn't have known that your family would become so twisted," said Helena firmly. Harry glared at her, but Helena didn't give him a chance to interrupt, "And it was not always this way. Many of Selene's line found the Chamber, and not one of them betrayed your trust. If not for Issa, this school would have fallen in the thirteenth century."

Harry finally looked up at that. Helena gave him a small smile. "All you wanted was to protect the school, and you did."

Harry took a deep breath, then another. "Issa is my responsibility," he said quietly. "When did this happen?"

There was definite wariness in Helena's eyes as she looked at him. "About fifty years ago."

Harry's jaw tightened. Fifty years was nothing to wizards. If he was still alive, then Harry would find him. "What was his name?"

Helena's whisper sounded like a thunderstorm in the silence, "Tom Riddle."


	11. Chapter 11

Cedric was worried.

This was in no way an unusual occurrence when Salazar was concerned. Godric had spent most of his life worrying about his friend. He had known from the start that things would be no different with Harry.

Things would be much easier when Rowena and Helga were back.

For now though it was just Cedric, and if there was one thing he was good at it was managing Salazar's moods. Admittedly, he had never had to deal with a Salazar that had found out that one of his distant relatives had released a Basilisk into the castle and killed a student and whose reputation was in ruins, but Cedric was never one to back down from a challenge.

This time he didn't need to ask where Harry was. He started for the seventh floor, performing the usual detour into one of the more obscure secret passages in order to avoid the Weasley twins. The pair were really starting to get on his nerves.

He arrived at the Room of Requirement a few minutes later, only slightly out of breath, and slipped inside before anyone could interrupt. He was met by the now familiar sight of towering piles of rubbish.

"Harry? Where are you?"

There was no reply. Cedric sighed, and started to pick his way through the stacks. "Come on, Harry. We need to talk."

There was a faint crash, and Cedric changed direction slightly. He squeezed in between a broken cabinet and a gargoyle, to find Harry digging through a trunk. The younger boy spared him only a brief scowl.

"Don't you have class?"

"Maybe I need to give you a copy of my timetable," Cedric muttered under his breath. "They finished an hour ago, and I've eaten. Unlike you."

It was a guess, but a very reasonable one based on experience. The snort he received confirmed it. "I can eat later."

Cedric rubbed his eyes. "Really? Because you said that yesterday, and Teaky told me you didn't touch anything."

Harry muttered something under his breath. Cedric sighed, and knelt next to him. "Harry, you do realise that you haven't left this room in nearly a week, don't you?"

Harry blinked, then dismissed the information with a scowl. "This is more important. Helena said Riddle brought back Rowena's Diadem, and she is convinced that he hid it here. I have to find it. I have to find out what he was up to."

Cedric sighed, and reached out to grip Harry's shoulders. The younger boy resisted, but Cedric forced him to look round. "Yes, we do," he said grimly. "But you don't have to do it right now." Harry's collarbones were worryingly sharp under his hands, and Cedric had to fight the urge to shake some sense into him. "Whatever Riddle did, it was over fifty years ago, and it hasn't caused any damage. You don't have to kill yourself trying to find it right away."

"You don't know that," Harry snapped. He rubbed angrily at his scar. "I'm sure that he is linked to the Dark magic here, and Dark magic is harmful by its very definition. I have to find it."

Cedric sighed. "We will," he repeated. "But right now, you're getting some fresh air."

That did the trick. Harry's gaze finally shifted from the surrounding rubbish, and he looked at Godric in outright horror. "Outside?" he repeated. "It's November! There's already snow! And you're already past your curfew."

"Yes, Salazar, I really care about curfew," said Cedric dryly. "And don't start about snow, your leg doesn't hurt any more. Besides," he said, when Harry tried to open his mouth, "I've got something special planned."

Harry eyed him. "When you say special-"

"No, it has nothing to do with dragons," Cedric snapped. "You're not Helga."

"Are you sure? Because I remember the last special adventure you took me on very vividly, and I do not need another practical lesson on our school motto."

Cedric couldn't help a snort of laughter, and felt a warm glow when the corner of Harry's mouth twitched. "It has nothing to do with dragons, or any other dangerous beasts," he promised. "It'll be fun, I swear."

Harry still looked sceptical, but Cedric was used to that. He knew exactly what he was doing.

* * *

"He dodged us again."

"I know," Fred snapped. "I was there." George rolled his eyes, and Fred sighed. "Sorry. I just don't get what's going on with him."

George grunted an acknowledgement. Fred slumped back into the armchair, letting his gaze drift around the Common Room. "This would have been so much easier if he had ended up in Gryffindor too."

Honestly, he had been convinced that their friend would be joining them. Cedric had always been up for adventures for as long as they had known him, and he never backed down from a challenge.

George, though, was shaking his head. "I don't know. I thought he was going to be a Ravenclaw, what with all the time he spent talking about school with Bill and Percy."

"Nah, he's too much fun for a Ravenclaw," said Fred.

"They're not actually that bad," George pointed out. "Have you seen that third year who can make a light show when she plays violin?"

"Okay yeah, that is cool," Fred admitted, "but Cedric still should be with us!"

Someone cleared their throat behind them. "If I might interrupt for a moment?"

"Why ask when you're going to do it anyway?" Fred muttered. George elbowed him, and he pulled a face. "What do you want, Percy?"

Percy cleared his throat again and pushed his glasses further up his nose. "I just wanted to point out that Cedric being in a different house doesn't mean he's not your friend any more. I have plenty of friends in other houses."

Fred opened his mouth, then closed it again when George kicked him. Percy eyed them both until George sighed. "We know, and we've been trying, but it's hard. Especially when he's avoiding us."

Percy sniffed. "I highly doubt he's ignoring you. Just because he's in a different house-"

"But that's not the problem!" Fred exploded. He pushed himself to his feet and started pacing in front of the fire. "He never waits for us after class, he always tries to dodge us in the corridors, half of the time we don't even see him at meals! There's something wrong, and we're going to find out what."

Because at the end of the day Cedric was their friend, and Fred knew there was something wrong and so nothing was going to stop him from helping. George's eyes met his in perfect understanding and agreement, and Fred felt his frustration cool to a steady glow. Cedric was smart and good at keeping secrets, but they were Weasleys. Nothing could stop them from helping a friend.

Although Percy might be a problem. Fred glared at his older brother, but before he could say anything Percy nodded.

"That doesn't sound like him at all. Is there anything I can do?"

Fred felt a rare surge of affection for the stuffiest member of the family, but then found himself hesitating. The only real clue they had about Cedric's behaviour was the boy they had seen him with that one time, and that wasn't much to go on. They hadn't even been able to get a good look at him. George caught his eye and coughed.

"Not really. We're just going to keep an eye on him and see if we can figure it out."

Percy sighed. "Or you could just talk to him?"

Twin snorts met his words. Percy rolled his eyes. "He's your friend. Why can't you talk to him?"

"Have you tried getting anything out of Cedric when he doesn't want to tell you?" Fred demanded. "He's impossible!"

George nodded. "It's been three years and we still don't know how he speaks Mandarin."

"Exactly." Fred dropped back into the armchair and folded his arms. "He's not going to tell us anything. We've got to be more sneaky."

"Merlin help us," Percy muttered.

Fred glanced at George, and saw his own mischief mirrored in his twin's eyes. As one they turned to Percy.

"Hey, Perce, you still interested in helping us out?"

The alarm that lit Percy's eyes was almost enough to make Fred forget his frustration. They would find out what Cedric was hiding eventually. It would probably end up being a disappointment, but they would have fun trying. If they could get Percy to loosen up too, that was just a nice bonus.

* * *

"It really shouldn't be this easy to sneak out of the school."

Harry didn't need to look to know that Cedric was rolling his eyes. "The students don't have our advantages. And they definitely don't know about some of these passages."

"Not even the Weasleys?" Harry asked.

This time Cedric did glance back long enough to scowl at him. "Stop it. They've only been here a couple of months." He paused. "And even they won't find this one. Now hurry up."

Harry grinned, but stepped up his pace. He had no intention of admitting it, but he had needed to get out of the Room of Requirement. He needed to keep working, to find out what Riddle had done to their school, but Cedric was right. Burning out wouldn't do anyone any good. He knew that from experience.

Harry had always loved Hogwarts at night. Without the crowds of students he was free to soak in the ambient magic of the castle, and all without having to worry about hiding from the rest of its inhabitants. He followed Cedric through the familiar passages, neither of them bothering with a light. Cedric had refused to tell him what they were doing, but just the idea of getting some fresh air was looking more and more appealing. Maybe he had spent too much time inside over the last couple of weeks.

"Hopefully the caretaker doesn't know about this one," Cedric murmured. "Charlie said he can be a pain to dodge."

"I think we'll manage," said Harry dryly.

Even without Hogwarts keeping an eye out for them, no one knew the castle better than they did. Cedric grinned back at him, then held up a hand as they reached the exit. For a minute they both froze, then Cedric relaxed.

"All right, everything's good. Come with me."

Harry followed close on his heels, tugging his cloak more tightly around himself. They had been lucky enough to avoid any heavy snowfalls so far, but the November night was still bitterly cold. He pushed himself into a jog, enjoying the lack of pain shooting through his leg.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going yet?"

Cedric shook his head. "Still not a fan of surprises, I see." He tapped Harry's shoulder to direct him through the grounds towards a set of small huts. "Down there."

Harry frowned. He'd seen the buildings from a distance when he went running in the mornings, but he hadn't gotten round to investigating further. He let Cedric pass him, and followed his friend down until they came to a stop. The door was sealed with a simple locking charm that Cedric disposed of with embarrassingly little effort before turning to grin at Harry.

"You'll enjoy this."

Harry quirked an eyebrow, but one look inside left him gaping. "You have got to be joking."

Cedric burst out laughing. "I'm serious, Harry."

"I am not going flying! You do remember how awful they are, don't you?"

He tried to back away, but Cedric threw an arm around his shoulders. "Of course I do. It was like sitting on a stick." He grinned. "However, everyone else agreed and someone invented a wonderful spell known as the Cushioning Charm."

Harry hesitated. Cedric didn't waste the chance, "And there have been so many other developments. You know how even the best made brooms could barely go faster than a horse? Well, the latest Cleansweep can do nought to sixty in ten seconds! And you have got to see a professional Quidditch match, you have no idea what sort of things they can do nowadays-"

"All right," Harry interrupted. "I'll give it a try."

Cedric's smile was dazzling in the moonlight. "Thank you, Harry. I promise you won't regret it."

Harry scowled, but it was half-hearted at best. He was never able to say no to Godric when he got so excited about something. Not that much had changed. He sighed, and followed Cedric into the hut. "Let's get on with this."

He reached for the nearest broom, only for Cedric to grab his wrist. "Not that one! Look at the tail twigs, it'll be constantly drifting to the left! And not that one either," he added, when Harry changed direction. "See how the wood is warped? That will make it more unpredictable and harder to control."

Harry folded his arms. "I thought you said these things were good."

"They are," said Cedric. "But these are ancient because the governors won't pay for new ones. Bill and Charlie have been complaining about them for years." His expression turned thoughtful. "You know, these brooms really aren't safe for our students-"

"You are not setting them on fire," Harry interrupted. "Just show me which one is the best for a beginner."

Cedric pouted, an expression that did not work nearly as well as Helga's did, but walked up and down the racks studying the brooms and muttering under his breath. Harry waited as patiently as he could, until finally Cedric sighed and selected one of the brooms.

"Try this one. It's missing a lot of twigs so it won't accelerate properly, but that's probably for the best as it's your first time."

"Thanks," said Harry dryly.

At least the thing looked better than they used to. He could feel the spells holding it together, as well as many more that he couldn't identify but which felt like speed and flight. The magic soothed the knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, and Cedric clapped him on the shoulder. "Ready?"

Harry took a deep breath, and followed him back out into the open. Cedric led them a little way across the lawn before he stopped and turned back to Harry. "This will be all right for now," he said. "Maybe if we do this again we'll try out the Quidditch stadium."

Harry bit back what he really wanted to say, but something must have shown on his face because Cedric rolled his eyes. "Anyway, this is how you mount a broom."

Godric had always been a good teacher, and a few minutes later found Harry seated far more comfortably than he had expected and ready to go. Cedric had mounted his own broom and manoeuvred it round so that was facing Harry.

"All right, so now we're going to kick off gently."

Harry nodded stiffly. His hands were beginning to shake from the cold, and he gripped the broom tighter. Cedric caught his eye. "I'll be right here," he promised. "The second I think something's going wrong I can take control of your broom and guide it back down."

Harry's trembling eased. He let out a long breath, and kicked off.

Flying was nothing like he remembered. Flying a thousand years ago had been painful and uncomfortable and terrifying.

Flying now was wonderful.

Harry had intended to go slowly. He knew his limits, and he wasn't going to do anything that Cedric hadn't shown him how to do, but flying wasn't difficult, flying was easy and instinctive and Harry couldn't help himself. For the first time in a long time all his worries fell away and he lost himself in the sheer thrill of flight.

"Harry!"

He had also completely forgotten about Cedric. Harry spun the broom round to hover in midair, and a moment later Cedric came to a halt in front of him. The older boy's eyes were very wide.

"Where did you learn how do to that?"

Harry laughed. "I don't know," he said breathlessly, "but this is incredible. Race you to the lake!"

He didn't give Cedric a chance to argue, but he heard laughter echo through the night sky and gave in to his own grin. The was the best thing he had done in months.

They spent longer than they should have testing out the brooms. Cedric showed Harry some of the tips and tricks he had learned from Charlie Weasley, and Harry let himself forget the stresses of the last few weeks. This was something new and something he could do well and Harry revelled in it.

Eventually though Cedric turned his broom towards the ground. Harry followed, taking the last opportunity to get as much speed out of the broom as possible, and landed lightly on the grass. Cedric quirked an eyebrow at him, and Harry was too flushed with exhilaration to care.

"Yes, you were right. That was fun."

Cedric threw an arm round his shoulders. "I'm glad you liked it. Though if Ro and Helga ask, you didn't do any of those stunts on your very first flight, okay?"

Harry ducked his head. He hadn't been able to resist. Cedric gave him a light shake. "We can do this again tomorrow night. I'll see if I can sneak out some Quidditch balls too. There's no way you won't make the house team if you can fly like that now."

"Thank you," said Harry quietly.

Cedric had always known what he needed. Cedric's arm tightened around his shoulders. "You're allowed to be a kid for a few years, Sal."

Harry wanted to argue, but with his heart still racing and the thrill of flight was still humming through his mind and he just couldn't find the words. Cedric just smiled, and pulled him into a quick hug, and under the starlit sky in the presence of his best friend, Harry finally let himself relax.

"You know," said Cedric, "new brooms really are a lot better. As well as safer."

Harry stared at him, but the combination of more speed, more comfort, and more manoeuvrability, was incredibly tempting. And it would be harder for Muggle-borns to learn on these ancient brooms. Flying was tricky enough without having to control a misbehaving broom, and the last thing first years needed was to get hurt during a lesson...

Cedric's grin was bigger than ever, and Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine. But at least try to keep it inconspicuous."

"Of course," said Cedric gravely. His eyes were gleaming. "I found the best book of fire spells in the library, and I've been waiting to try them out."

Harry couldn't help it. He burst out laughing.

* * *

Alastor knocked brusquely on the door to Scrimgeour's office and pushed it open without waiting for a response. Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow, but had known him long enough to just wave him to a seat. Alastor did so, but not before kicking the door shut. They were the only ones still working, but there was no point in taking chances. He added the usual secrecy spells, and waited for Scrimgeour to add his own before he started to speak.

"I can't find the transcripts from Sirius Black's trial."

Scrimgeour's amber eyes narrowed, and he leaned back in his chair. "There's no shortage of people who could have accessed them."

That had been Alastor's first thought too. "Tried all the usual places. And the unusual ones. There's nothing except the records of his apprehension and transfer to Azkaban."

Scrimgeour stilled completely. "Can you think of any reason why someone would tamper with the trial records, and yet leave those?"

"No," Alastor growled. "Which leaves one possibility."

Scrimgeour's hand clenched on his cane. Alastor didn't even try to hide his own contempt. Neither of them had been on active duty at the time of Voldemort's defeat; Alastor due to having his leg blown off, while Scrimgeour had still been recovering from a particularly vicious curse to his knee that had refused to stop bleeding until what seemed like half of St Mungo's and Albus Dumbledore himself had joined forces on the problem. That didn't mean they were unaware of the chaos that had followed Voldemort's defeat.

Too few Aurors and too many convicts were no excuse for not giving proper trials.

Alastor could see the anger building in his boss' eyes, but Scrimgeour's voice remained quiet.

"The visit has been authorised for three days from now. Take note of whatever Black says. Find out what happened."

Alastor raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't there be more than one Auror in attendance for that?"

"There should have been a trial," Scrimgeour snarled. He took a moment to collect himself, the frustration vanishing under his usual languid calm, before continuing, "I'll talk to Amelia, but going through the proper channels will take too long. We might as well get a head start."

Alastor nodded. He had no problem with that. No matter what Black had done, everyone deserved a fair trial. They would get to the truth, one way or another.


	12. Chapter 12

Remus Lupin had been terrified of Azkaban for as long as he could remember. As a child his grandmother had told him stories that had given him nightmares for months. After he became a werewolf, after he became dangerous, the fear had only increased. Even now, as a fully trained wizard capable of producing a perfectly adequate Patronus, just thinking about Dementors was enough to make him break out in a sweat.

Sirius had been in Azkaban for eight years.

He deserved it. He had betrayed Lily and James to Voldemort, he had got them killed, he had murdered Peter. If anyone deserved imprisonment in that hell it was Sirius Black.

Or so Remus had spent eight years trying to tell himself.

The boat lurched, and Remus grabbed hold of the side before he took an unwelcome dip in the North Sea. The spells propelling the boat were perfectly adequate, but not exactly designed with passenger comfort in mind.

"Careful, Lupin," came a gravelly voice. "The boat won't stop for you."

Remus glanced round. Alastor's magical eye was spinning in every direction, but there was a definite glint in his real one. Remus snorted. "You tried that one on us during the war, Alastor, and we didn't believe it then."

"Pettigrew did," Alastor shot back. "So did Potter, for that matter."

Despite the awful circumstances, Remus had to smile at the memory. For one of the most brilliant people Remus had ever known, James had had his moments of being remarkably trusting. Remus and Peter had taken full advantage of his lack of knowledge about the Muggle world, and the older members of the Order had seized on the rare moments of levity.

The smile died though as Alastor nodded past him.

"There we are, lad. Hell on earth."

Remus swallowed. It had been a bright winter morning when they left. Now the sky was thick was grey clouds, and the high walls of Azkaban seemed to suck out what little light remained. A shiver wracked his body. They were too far for the Dementors to be affecting him, but just the thought...

"Lupin. Focus."

"Yes, sir," said Remus automatically, before remembering that he wasn't in the Order any more and flushing. Alastor just rolled his eyes.

"Mind the bump as we dock. And let me do that talking."

"That's fine by me," said Remus. He had no intention of going anywhere near the guards. He braced himself against the side of the boat as they drew alongside the pier, and watched as the ropes uncoiled themselves and secured the vessel.

Alastor hopped ashore with far more agility than would be expected of a man with a wooden leg. Remus followed more reluctantly. Thick fog was rolling down from the tower, and he shivered. Already he could feel the presence of the Dementors bearing down on him, bringing all the thoughts of his losses and failures bubbling to the surface of his mind...

"Focus, Lupin," Alastor snapped. "Or stay in the boat."

Lupin shook his head. "Yes, sorry. I'll be fine."

He would have been insulted by the scepticism in Alastor's eye if he wasn't feeling so awful. Alastor jabbed his wand, and a brilliant silver badger burst into life at his feet. Immediately the growing feelings of despair faded, and Remus took a shaky breath. He fumbled for his own wand, a moment later his wolf joined Alastor's badger. Alastor quirked an eyebrow, and Remus flushed.

"I can make it noncoporeal," he muttered.

Alastor's other eyebrow shot up. "Impressive control, but stick to that one for now. Come on." He started down the path to the prison, then paused, and glanced back. "Concentrate on your Patronus, or whatever memory is sustaining it. Keep that at full power. Don't look at the Dementors, don't look at the prisoners, and don't wander off."

Remus swallowed. "Don't worry about that."

He stuck a bit closer to Alastor than was strictly necessary as they made their way along the path, but the Auror didn't say anything. Two Dementors were stationed at the entrance, but Alastor's stride didn't falter as he stomped forward.

"Alastor Moody, Auror, with Remus Lupin. We are here on the authorisation of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

For a moment neither Dementor moved, but Alastor held firm and they finally moved aside. Remus took a deep breath, pushed more power into his wolf, and followed Alastor into Azkaban. The cold increased as he passed the Dementors, but the wolf pressed close against his side and Remus forced himself to keep looking straight ahead. He wasn't a criminal. He was allowed to be here. He had nothing to be afraid of.

"He's in cell 39," Alastor muttered. "Let's get this over with."

Several corridors and three flights of stairs later, Remus was all but ready to flee back to the boat. The stench of the Dementors was making his nose burn, and even with the two Patronuses it was a struggle to keep his worst memories from overwhelming him.

It was small consolation that Alastor was also looking pale by the time they reached the right floor.

"Not going to miss this part of the job," he grunted. The badger nosed at his knee, and he straightened. "That way."

"You're retiring?" Remus asked. He'd thought the older man would die at his post.

"Focus, Lupin."

Remus suppressed a sigh, and followed. Maybe he was too easily distracted. Now that he was there though, there was no hiding from the fact that was about to come face to face with his only surviving friend. One of the people who had made his school years bearable, and had gone on to murder three of their friends.

For once, Alastor didn't prompt him into action. In fact his dark eye was surprisingly gentle. Remus took a deep breath, and stepped in front of the bars.

He had to squint to see anything. The only light came from a flickering torch by the stairs, and Sirius' cell was one of the furthest along. All he could make out was a misshapen lump hidden in the shadows, and after a moment's hesitation Remus waved his wolf closer to the bars.

"Sirius?"

In the silver light of the Patronus the lump coalesced into a mound of tattered blankets. Remus' stomach lurched as he took in the grimy cell, with the stained stone floor and the streaks of mould on the walls. Sirius had spent the last eight years here, in a cell that was barely five paces long.

"Sirius?"

There was still no answer. Alastor rolled his eyes and stomped forward. "Black," he barked. "On your feet. We're here to talk to you."

For a minute there was no reply, then the blankets shifted. A head of matted black hair, so different from the shining waves Remus remembered, appeared, and then Remus found himself frozen in place at the sight of his best friend.

Sirius looked...insane. His skin was waxy, and so stretched over his bones that he could have been a corpse. The wild hair, beard, and moustache only added to the impression, but worse still were the eyes. In Remus' memories they sparkled with fire and mischief. Now they burned with an obsession bordering on the deranged. It took a moment for them to focus on Remus, then the cracked lips drew up in a slash of a smile.

"Hello, Moony," he rasped. "It's been a while."

"Hello, Sirius," said Remus quietly.

He was amazed by how steady his voice was. He had known that Azkaban was a terrible place, but this...

"Black," Alastor snapped. "We're here to talk to you."

Sirius' eyes finally left Remus'. "Moody. Nice eye. Eyepatch might have been less traumatic for the kids, y'know. You'd have made an awesome pirate too."

Despite himself, the corner of Remus' mouth twitched before he quickly suppressed it. It had been a long time. Alastor just grunted.

"Enough chatter. We're here to talk about you."

The awful smile widened. "You know everything about me. Sirius Black, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, the man who couldn't protect his brother, and who got his best friends killed, and who couldn't avenge them-"

"Black!" Alastor snapped, cutting off the increasingly hysterical ranting, but Remus' mind had already locked on his words.

"Avenge them? How could you avenge them, you betrayed them!"

Sirius moved faster than Remus had thought possible. He lunged forward to seize the cell bars. "I never betrayed them! I would have died before betraying them! I failed and I got them killed but I never betrayed them!"

"You're not making any sense!" Remus snarled. "You were the Secret-Keeper! You were the only one who could have told Voldemort-"

"I wasn't the Secret-Keeper!"

Remus jerked back. "W-what?"

Next to him, Alastor had gone very still. Sirius' eyes didn't leave Remus'. "James asked me," he said, and his voice had fallen to a scratchy whisper. "He trusted me. But I had to be clever, I thought it would be safer if they used someone they'd never suspect..."

Everything fell into place, and the wolf Patronus vanished at the same moment Remus' knees buckled. "Peter. They...they used Peter."

"Hold on," Alastor interrupted. "How do we know you're telling the truth?"

Sirius let out a hollow laugh, so different from the joyful sound of their Hogwarts years. "Look around. Being innocent is the only thing that's kept me sane. It's the only thing the Dementors can't take from me."

Alastor's scowl deepened, but he said nothing. Remus stared from him to Black. "Could that be true?"

Sirius did seem different from the other inmates. They were either talking nonsense, or barely conscious lumps. Sirius though... The obsession was there, but Sirius had always been intense, and after eight years with just one thing to focus on...

"Of course it's true!" Sirius screamed. "I would have died before betraying James! I would have died for any of you! But no one asked! They locked me up and let Peter get away with murdering all those people and no one ever cared about the truth because of course Sirius Black was evil and deranged like all the rest of his psycho family-"

"Wait," Remus interrupted. "What do you mean no one asked?"

Next to him Alastor tensed, but Remus couldn't tear his eyes from Sirius'. Sirius, who had gone very still. "No," he said, and this time his voice was very soft. "No one asked."

"But at the trial-"

"What trial?" Sirius laughed again. "That bastard Crouch found a Black and some dead bodies, that was all he needed."

Remus had to lean against the wall to keep from collapsing. "You...you didn't have a trial."

How was that even possible? Yes, things had been chaotic after Voldemort's fall, but they weren't savages. Everyone was entitled to a trial. Bellatrix Lestrange and her accomplices had had a trial.

Then he realised that Alastor had yet to say a word, and whirled on the Auror.

"You knew."

"Not until two days ago," sad Alastor quietly. Neither of his eyes were meeting Remus'. "Things would be different if I had."

"You were the most successful Auror in the country," Remus snarled. "How could you not know?"

"Because I was either in St. Mungo's or on the streets," Alastor snapped. "Along with all the others who actually did our jobs in that time." He scrubbed a hand over his worn features, and when he looked back his eyes were flashing. "We spent months tracking those bastards down, and we did our jobs right, damn it. Everything we had we handed over, then we went back and started after the next maniac. Everyone was supposed to get a trial!"

Remus glared at him, but there was no lie in Alastor's face. He remembered the chaos of those days and weeks; no one had known what had happened or what was going to happen next. It had taken months for everything to return to normal.

Maybe it wasn't so surprising that trials had been neglected, especially for such a seemingly clear-cut case as Sirius'.

Sirius gripped the bars, his burning gaze locking into Remus.

"I never betrayed them," he croaked. "I would have died first."

Sirius had never been able to lie to his friends. Remus looked at him, at the desperation in his face, and finally believed him.

But even as relief left his knees shaking, the revelation sent a spike of ice through his stomach. If Sirius had never been a Death Eater, if he had no knowledge of any plans they might have had in the event if Voldemort's defeat...

"Oh no."

Sirius drew back, expression closing off, and Remus was quick to clarify. "Not you! If you're innocent..." He couldn't let himself think about that, and forged on, "But you don't know anything about what the Death Eaters were doing? Or planning?"

"Of course not," Sirius insisted. "How could I? And no one talks in here, they're all crazy." His eyes bored into Remus'. "Why? What's going on?"

Remus bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He had no idea what telling Sirius about Harry might do, and then there was Alastor. Albus had clearly been trying to keep Harry's disappearance quiet, and it wasn't the kind of thing Alastor could or would keep from his superiors. Telling them would be a terrible mistake.

Harry was missing, and Remus didn't care.

"I hoped you might," he said quietly, "because Harry is missing."

"What?" Alastor demanded.

"Missing?" hissed Sirius at the same moment. His knuckles turned white on the bars. "When? How? He was supposed to be safe, Hagrid promised me that he was going to his family-"

"He did," said Remus quickly. He ran a hand through his hair. "He disappeared at the start of the summer."

Alastor's magical eye was spinning fast enough to make Remus feel slightly queasy. "And were only finding out now?" he snarled. "It's our job to find missing persons, especially if they're children. Does Albus know?" He interrupted himself with a harsh laugh. "Of course he does. Albus has to keep his secrets." He turned away for a moment, and when he looked back both eyes fixed on Remus. "You know I have to tell Scrimgeour about this."

"I don't care," said Remus. "I just want Harry found before anything happens."

Alastor nodded shortly. "We'll need to know everything you do. We'll keep it strictly need to know, the last thing we need is this getting out, but if Albus hasn't found him yet..."

He didn't need to finish the sentence. Remus nodded. He trusted the Headmaster with his life, but this visit had only confirmed that the old wizard wasn't perfect. He had made mistakes with Sirius, and Sirius had spent nearly a decade paying the price. They couldn't let anything happen to Harry.

Speaking of Sirius, he had been far too quiet since hearing about Harry, and that was never a good sound. Remus glanced round and found him staring straight ahead. His hands were still clenched around the bars, but his face held absolutely no expression.

The sight made Remus' stomach clench. Sirius was brilliant and passionate and a hundred other things, but never unemotional. Never like this.

"Sirius?"

Sirius didn't move. Remus took a step closer, and still not even a flicker.

"Black," Alastor barked. "You in there?"

A low rattle of a breath escaped Sirius' lips. "Harry's missing?"

Remus exchanged a look with Alastor, and saw his own wariness echoed in the Auror's scarred face. "Albus thinks he's fine," he said. "Just...lost."

Sirius' jaw clenched until Remus could hear his teeth grinding, but he said nothing. Alastor folded his arms. "We'll find him," he said gruffly. "In the meantime, I'll talk to the boss and get a trial sorted."

Something flickered in Sirius' eyes, something that made Remus stiffen. "Sirius, we can't get you out without a trial. I'll keep looking for Harry, but you can't do anything until then." He hesitated, asking Sirius to stay out of trouble was like asking the sun to stop, but it wasn't like Sirius could do anything. "Don't panic," he settled on, finally. "We'll get you out of here as soon as you can."

Sirius nodded tightly, but otherwise didn't respond. Remus bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, and stepped up to the bars. "I'll find Harry," he said fiercely. "I swear it."

The look in Sirius' eyes was really starting to scare him. Remus was just drawing in breath to try again when Alastor caught his shoulder.

"Think that's enough for one day," he said. Under the harsh tones was an unmistakeable undercurrent of concern. "Being in here affects their ability to concentrate. Best leave him be."

"Best to leave him with Dementors?" Remus repeated.

Even with Alastor's Patronus, he could feel the foul things pressing at the edges of his mind. It had been hard enough to imagine Sirius in here when Remus was convinced he was a mass-murderer and traitor. Now it went against every fibre of his being to leave an innocent man here.

"I know, lad," Alastor growled. "Believe me, I know. Which is why the sooner we get back and get things in motion the better." His voice dropped further. "And we need to start looking for Potter."

Still Remus hesitated, torn between his loyalty his friend and to Harry, but before he could wrestle too much with the problem a harsh rattle interrupted him.

"Go, Moony," Sirius rasped. "Find Harry. Find him. Find Harry, you hear me? Find him!"

"I will," Remus promised. "I swear, I will."

But Sirius barely seemed to hear him. He continued to thrash against the bars, his voice rising in a barely-human howl that made Remus flinch away. He didn't protest when Alastor nudged him back in the direction of the entrance, but his need to find Harry crystallised into something much fiercer.

He would find Harry. He would get Sirius out. Then there would be hell to pay.

* * *

For eight years, Sirius Black had been able to think of nothing but his own innocence. His own survival. It was the only thing he could do. The Dementors had sucked him dry of happy memories. All there was was the crushing knowledge that he had failed, that James and Lily had died because of his arrogance, that Peter had betrayed them...

But then Remus was there, and Moody, and they were talking about a trial but Sirius stopped caring about that the moment he mentioned Harry.

Harry was supposed to be with Petunia. Harry was supposed to be safe.

Harry wasn't with Petunia. Harry wasn't safe.

For the first time in eight years, Sirius Black focused on more than just survival. James had trusted him, and he had failed. He wouldn't fail again. Remus and Moody believed him, but Sirius knew better than anyone how useless the Ministry was. He couldn't rely on them. And no matter how hard he tried he couldn't remember if he had actually told them that Peter was still alive.

He would just have to take matters into his own hands.

* * *

Albus was seriously beginning to wonder if Hogwarts had gained a second poltergeist.

The explosion over the summer. The exorcism of Professor Binns. Now, he could add the destruction of the broom shed to his list. Once again there hadn't been the slightest tremor from the wards, and the perpetrator had left no clues as to their identity. Whoever was responsible for this was growing to be a serious threat to his school.

And yet...

No one had been harmed. Binns had left of his own volition. The fire that had consumed the broom shed had been set in the dead of night, and hadn't even scorched the grass. In both cases, things had actually turned to the students' benefit. Binns had been a loyal friend, but there was no denying that young Belinda was a far superior teacher. Students were even staying awake in class now. And Rolanda had been ecstatic over the opportunity to get the students decent brooms. Poppy had been equally delighted; the number of first years due to visiting the Hospital Wing due to accidents caused by faulty brooms had already dropped dramatically.

Albus removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. What they were dealing with wasn't a poltergeist. If anything it was the complete opposite. Something that was breaking both rules and laws with equal abandon, but always in ways that benefitted the students of Hogwarts.

After spending decades as a teacher, Albus had thought that nothing could surprise him. Hogwarts clearly loved proving him wrong. Fawkes let out a gentle trill, and Albus reached up to stroke his feathers. His friend dipped his head to nuzzle his cheek, and Albus let the song soothe his nerves.

"What are we going to do, Fawkes?"

Fawkes hummed again, and at the same moment the fireplace flared green. Albus rose to his feet, Fawkes hopping to his shoulder as he did so, and as he crossed the room Fudge's panicked voice rang through the room.

"Albus, are you there? I need you here as soon as possible! Something terrible has happened!"

* * *

"How did they turn only their skin pink?"

Cedric laughed. "No idea, but I suspect it involved getting on the house elves' good side." He shook his head. "They'd better not make a habit of it, or Helga will kill them."

Harry had to smile. As much as the twins' antics got on his nerves, he couldn't deny that they had a talent for pranks. "I doubt she'll be too impressed," he agreed. "She wasn't when I gave them that potion to make your hair stand on end."

"I knew that was you!"

Dodging hexes was tricky when one was laughing their head off, but Harry managed. Cedric glowered at him. "You're a menace. Still."

' _I am sorry to interrupt,'_ said Hogwarts gently. " _But something has happened.'_

The laughter died immediately. "What's wrong?" Harry demanded. "Is there danger?"

' _No, or at least no immediate danger. The Headmaster has been summoned to the Ministry of Magic. Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban.'_

Harry frowned, but it was Cedric who voiced the question on both their minds. "Who the hell is Sirius Black?"


	13. Chapter 13

Cedric loved the ceiling of the Great Hall. It had taken the four of them nearly two years to perfect, but the effort was well worth it. Even now, centuries later, the magic blazed as brightly as it had when Hogwarts first opened, and Cedric could quite happily spend hours just watching the results of their hard work.

He was rather less happy to do so when he was desperately awaiting a letter, and the post was late. He had garnered a few curious looks from his friends over the course of the meal, but for once Cedric was too impatient to do more than nibble on an apple. He needed that letter. He had to know what was going on.

Someone clapped him on the shoulder, and Cedric's wand was in his hand before he knew what was happening.

"Woah, easy there! No enemies here!"

Cedric's cheeks burned, and he stuffed his wand back in his robes. "Sorry," he said. He was on the verge of offering an excuse, but at that moment he happened to glance up and what came out his mouth was, "Did the Weasley twins get you?"

The girl blinked, then burst out laughing. "No, this is all me. I'm a Metamorphagus."

Cedric watched in fascination as her hair cycled through a startling range of lengths and colours before finally returning to shoulder-length emerald green. She grinned and stuck out a hand. "I'm Tonks."

"Cedric," said Cedric, shaking it. The name rang a bell, and he placed it a moment later. "Do you know Charlie Weasley?"

"Ever since first year," said Tonks, with a nod. She cocked her head to one side. "Cedric...Yeah, he's mentioned you. Actually, I think I've heard Runcorn talking about you, and now I get why. Those are some good reflexes you've got."

Cedric rubbed the back of his head. "We can thank Fred and George for that."

It wasn't a complete lie. The twins did provide a certain challenge. Tonks just snorted. "Yeah, I can imagine. So what had you so distracted anyway? Everything okay?"

Cedric smiled. Tonks was far from the first older Hufflepuff to check in on the younger ones. "I'm fine thanks, just waiting for a letter from my dad."

Tonks nodded, her hair darkening slightly. "If you say so. If you ever want to chat or anything, you know where to find me." She grinned suddenly. "And if you ever need a break, I do a mean Snape impression."

"Pun intended?" Cedric asked.

That earned him another explosive snort. "Happy accident." Her currently violet eyes flickered up, and she nudged him. "And it looks like you're in luck."

Cedric followed her gaze, and brightened at the sight of the owls soaring into the Great Hall. It was impossible to pick out a single owl among the hundreds of birds overhead, but a moment later Athena swooped down to land next to him. Cedric stroked her speckled plumage.

"Hi, girl," he said softly. "Are you all right?"

He held up a piece of bacon, which she accepted with a grateful hoot. Tonks leaned forwards. "She's beautiful. Is she yours or the family's?"

"Family," Cedric told her. "We've had her for nearly three years now." Athena hooted again and nibbled gently at his fingers before extending her leg to let Cedric untie the reassuringly thick letter. "Thanks," he said. He passed her another piece of bacon, and gave her final scratch. "Go and get a good rest."

Athena needed no further encouragement. Cedric turned his attention to the letter, his heart racing at the sight of his father's elegant cursive. This might be exactly what they needed, and he had to show Harry as soon as possible. He shoved the letter into his pocket and swung his legs over the bench, only for Tonks to catch his arm.

"Hey, hold up," she said. "What about breakfast? It's the most important meal of the day, you know."

Cedric fought back the retort that sprang to his lips, and grabbed a piece of toast from the table. "I know, but I have to check this. Thanks, Tonks."

He was off and running before she had a chance to protest. A couple of his friends called out questions, but Cedric ignored them. He squeezed through the groups of students talking in the Entrance Hall, but before he could take refuge in one of the secret passages a lanky form planted itself in his path.

"There you are, Cedric. I've been looking for you."

Cedric had to bite his cheek to keep from cursing. Percy pushed his glasses up his nose, his brow furrowing into a frown. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Percy," said Cedric quickly. He offered the older boy a smile. "Just wanted to answer a letter before Transfiguration."

Percy nodded, but his blue eyes didn't leave Cedric's and Cedric had to fight the urge to fidget. He knew how smart Percy was, and he also knew that he was far more perceptive than the twins gave him credit for. Cedric forced his best innocent look to his face.

"Is something wrong?"

"Why don't you tell me?" said Percy.

Cedric bit his lip. He should have known that Fred and George would call in reinforcements. Percy sighed, and gestured for him to move over to the wall, away from curious ears. "I know you're excited to be here," he said. "And you've got your own friends, and you're doing your own thing, but Fred and George seem to think that you're trying to ignore them."

"I'm not," Cedric insisted. "Well, not really," he amended, when Percy raised an eyebrow at him. "We just seem to keep missing each other."

The lies sat uneasily on his lips, but there wasn't much he could do about it. It wasn't like he didn't want to spend time with his friends, but they were annoyingly sneaky and they knew him well. They would be able to tell he was hiding something, and then it would only be harder to spend time with Harry. After all the years apart, Cedric didn't want to risk that.

But he also couldn't keep avoiding Fred and George. His new friends deserved better than that.

"I'll try and catch up with them later," he said finally. He ran a hand through his hair, and offered Percy a sheepish smile. "I guess I got a bit caught up in being here."

Percy's somewhat severe expression softened. "That's understandable. I was the same way when I first got here. And don't worry about Fred and George. They just miss you."

Cedric could only nod. Percy clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, good. And if you ever need anything, you know where I am." He started to turn away, then paused. "Oh, Cedric, you haven't seen Scabbers around, have you?"

"Scabbers?" Cedric repeated. "No, sorry. Has he gone missing?"

Percy nodded, his face falling. "I'm afraid so. I haven't seen him since Monday."

Cedric frowned. He knew the Weasleys' situation, and for all that Scabbers was just an old rat the whole family was very fond of him. "I'll keep an eye out," he promised. "I'm sure he'll turn up."

"Thank you," said Percy, with a sigh. "And you'll remember what I said, won't you?"

"Yes, Percy," said Cedric quietly.

"All right then. Now hurry up and see to that letter. You don't want to be late for McGonagall."

Cedric gave an exaggerated shudder at the thought, and dashed off with the sound of Percy's laughter ringing in his ears.

Cedric's own spirits weren't quite as high. Maybe he had spent so much time trying not to neglect Harry that he had ended up neglecting his friends. It wasn't a feeling he liked. He would have to find a way to do better.

Cedric shook his head sharply. He could work things out with Fred and George later. Right now, he and Harry had other work to do.

His lungs were burning by the time he reached the seventh floor, but Cedric didn't care. He and Harry had done what investigating they could, but neither Hogwarts nor the ghosts had been unable to tell them much. Just the fact that Black had been best friends with James Potter had been enough to get them invested though, and Cedric had reached out to the best source he knew. Hopefully it would be enough to keep Harry from doing something rash.

For once the piles of rubbish were nowhere to be seen. Instead, there were the remains of several wooden training dummies, and a Harry that was unable to sit still.

"I tried to talking to Helena again, and Edmund," he said, as soon as Cedric entered, "but they couldn't tell me much else." He shook his head. "This would be much easier if they weren't so isolated from even their own houses."

Cedric grimaced, but he could see why the two ghosts would value their privacy so highly. He held up the letter. "Hopefully we'll get something here."

Harry brightened and shot to Cedric's side so they could read it together. He let out a low whistle at the multiple sheets that spilled out. "How did they get all this information?"

"My dad hears everything," said Cedric, with a smirk. "Everyone trusts Hufflepuffs." Harry snorted, and Cedric continued, "and he's been working there for years and knows where to get the best gossip."

Harry grinned, but it quickly faded as he scanned the letter. "They're reopening the case, they're advocating for a trial, and he still escaped? Why?"

Cedric shook his head. It didn't make much sense to him either. Harry swore under his breath in Arabic and started pacing.

"Do you think he did it?"

"Murder a dozen Muggles? No," said Cedric. He plucked the letter from Harry's hands, and glanced over it. "And common consensus in the Ministry seems to be that it was this Pettigrew as well."

That raised even more questions, considering Pettigrew had also been a friend, but Black was the priority and Cedric kept reading, "Moody is the driving force behind the re-examination, and he's one of the best Aurora in the country, and the other friend, Lupin, is convinced that Black is innocent..."

His voice trailed off as he reached the last page of the letter, ice spiking through his stomach, but Harry was still preoccupied.

"Then why was he in Azkaban? With Dementors? I know things must have been chaos, but it's bad enough that criminals are sent there, let alone innocents! How was this not discovered sooner?"

Cedric said nothing. Harry spun back, eyes narrowing, and Cedric sighed.

"There's something else," he said quietly. He handed over the last page. Harry glanced at it, then the temperature in the room suddenly dropped. His hands clenched into fists, and Cedric rescued the letter before Harry crushed it.

Harry barely noticed. "Godfather. He's my godfather."

Cedric set the letter down, and wrapped Harry in a tight hug. He said nothing, but he could feel Harry trembling against him and ran a hand through his friend's messy hair.

"He was innocent," Harry hissed against his chest. "He was innocent, and he spent eight years with Dementors, and no one cared. And I was stuck with..." He trailed off with an incoherent snarl.

Cedric hugged him tighter. "A lot of people care now," he murmured. "Even if people are offended by his escape, he's already spent eight years in there for a crime he didn't commit. Of course if he handed himself in he could prove his innocence and be cleared faster, but-"

"But that would take time, and he's already spent years there," said Harry bitterly. He shifted, and when Cedric let him go he immediately started pacing again. "How did this happen? We were both...None of this should have happened!"

Cedric said nothing. All the anger that had been building over Black's false imprisonment had doubled at the revelation that he was Harry's godfather. Harry could have had had a safe, happy childhood with someone who loved him. Instead they had both been alone.

Judging from the faint breeze tugging at his hair, Harry was all too aware of that. When he finally turned back, his green eyes were flashing. "If I broke out of prison, the first thing I'd do would be to find someone who could help. Someone I trusted."

Despite the situation, Cedric couldn't help a grin. "If? That's exactly what you did do."

Harry rolled his eyes, but a smile twitched his lips at the memory. "And I was perfectly correct to do so, wasn't I?" He shook his head, smile fading. "The point is, if I were Sirius Black, and the one friend I had left had recently visited me in prison and believed my story, I know what I would do."

"Agreed," said Cedric, with a nod. "And it would be perfectly reasonable for you to write to a close friend of your parents asking for information about your newly-discovered godfather."

Harry blinked. "Write? Don't I need an address? I know nothing about Lupin."

Cedric shook his head. "I asked my Mum about it ages ago. They used to use loads of spells to make it easier for post birds to find recipients, and over time the magic just got bred into them. A name is all they need." He crossed the room to clap Harry on the shoulder. "And Hogwarts has a lot of owls for any student to use."

It sounded like a perfect plan to him, but Harry hesitated. "Wouldn't that be strange? For them to just hear from me out of the blue?"

"I suppose so," Cedric allowed. "But do we have any better ideas?"

Harry scowled, But said nothing. Cedric glanced at his watch and winced. "McGonagall's gonna kill me. Look, they won't be able to track you, especially not here. It might be worth a try. I've really got to run, but think about it, all right?"

"Fine," Harry muttered.

Cedric hesitated. Something was wrong here, but even as he opened his mouth Harry shook his head. "I'll think about it. Now go on, before you're late."

There was no arguing with that expression. Cedric gave him another quick hug, then ran for the door. He really hoped McGonagall was in a good mood. Between Harry, the twins, and Sirius Black Transfiguration was going to be a nightmare.

But despite himself, Cedric was in good spirits as he took the steps three at a time. Harry had a godfather. He had people that knew his father, and wanted the best for him. There was a chance for him to have a happy home, and if Black really was innocent then Cedric would do everything in his power to see them reunited.

They both deserved it.

* * *

Amelia Bones was one of the most formidable witches of her time. Albus had been aware if that ever since she passed every one of her first year exams with the highest marks seen in years. The rest of her time at Hogwarts, and her later career as an Auror and Head of the DMLE, had only cemented her reputation as a witch who was not to be crossed.

This wasn't the first time Albus had ended up in her bad books, but he had never seen her look quite this furious.

"July."

Albus nodded. Amelia's lips were a thin line. "A boy has been missing for five months," she said, and the ice in her voice made a winter at Hogwarts seem mild. "Were you ever planning on informing us?"

Albus sighed. "The particular circumstances-"

"Damn the circumstances," Amelia snapped. "I don't care if it's the Boy Who Lived or the Queen of Sheba, if a child is missing you don't spend months trying to investigate discreetly at the cost of the child's safety!"

Albus opened his mouth, then closed it again. There was very little he could say to that. Scrimgeour pushed himself off from the wall and limped forward.

"Do you have any leads?"

His amber gaze was just as intense as Amelia's. Albus sighed. "I'm afraid not. None of my suspects even knew Harry was missing."

Scrimgeour exchanged a grim look with Amelia, but before either of them could say anything Alastor cleared his throat. "And now Sirius Black does too."

Albus closed his eyes for a moment. One more mistake to add to a lifetime of them. He looked up in time to see Scrimgeour scowl. "Just what we needed," he muttered. "But you can hardly blame the man."

"Certainly not," said Albus quietly. Sirius would never abandon James' son, not even if the cost was his own freedom.

Amelia straightened, and all eyes returned to her. Her sharp gaze travelled round the room, before finally settling in Albus. "We are going to find both of them," she said grimly. "Potter and Black. And you, Albus, are going to tell us everything you know."

Instincts born of a lifetime of discretion blazed up, but Albus forced them down. Harry was more important. Alastor grunted approval, but Scrimgeour quirked an eyebrow. "And what are we going to tell the Minister?"

Alastor's face creased into a fierce scowl. "We tell him and we tell Malfoy," he spat. "And all the rest of his Death Eater chums."

"We are fortunate that the information is currently contained," said Albus. If the revelation had been made anywhere other than Azkaban then they might have been in serious trouble, but as it was he was reasonably confident that they were the only people in the Ministry who knew that Harry Potter was missing.

Of course, that state of affairs was not going to last. Not with the sheer number of Death Eaters and sympathisers in the Ministry. All they could do was try to minimise the damage, and find Harry as soon as possible. Albus could only pray that they wouldn't be too late.

* * *

"That looks painful, Uncle."

Harry spared his niece a small smile. "I think I'd rather face a troll."

One didn't have to talk to trolls. Honestly though, Harry would take anything over this. He had already spent most of the morning staring at the piece of blank parchment Cedric had left him, and he was still no closer to working out how to begin.

Helena floated down next to him.

"Would you like some help? I didn't really know any of them, but they were somewhat noticeable over the seven years they were here."

She had told them as much earlier, and Harry certainly wasn't going to turn down any help. "Thank you." He sighed, twirling his quill between his fingers. "I don't even know where to start."

Helena raised an eyebrow. "You could introduce yourself?"

Harry snorted. "I wouldn't believe that."

"You're the most paranoid person in history," said Helena dryly. She shifted so that she was sat perfectly poised in midair. "I expect simply telling the truth about what living with your relatives was like would be sufficient. Lupin and Black must have met them at some point."

Harry nodded, but didn't move. Helena cocked her head to one side, then her eyes suddenly widened. "Uncle..."

"Never mind," Harry muttered.

It came out a little more curt than he had intended, but Helena didn't move. She started to reach for him, before breaking off with a frustrated huff and shaking her head.

"Uncle, those four were inseparable," she said gently. "Black is your godfather. You know they would want to hear from you. No, they will be desperate to hear from you."

Harry's throat was too tight to answer. Helena touched his arm, scowling when her hand passed straight through. "Uncle..."

"The Dursleys hate me."

The words stung, but Harry couldn't hide from them. They were his family, and they had never wanted him. Maybe it was irrational, but even the thought that his godfather might react the same way...

"Black won't," said Helena fiercely. "He doesn't, and Lupin doesn't."

"Helena-"

Then he broke off with a hiss as Helena shoved her whole hand through his chest. The icy cold left him gasping, and Helena glared at him.

"The Dursleys are nothing," she spat. "Don't you dare try to deny yourself happiness because of them." Her voice softened slightly. "Please, Uncle. You know better than this."

Harry stared at her, then at the quill he had crushed in his hand. She was right. Cedric was right. Black and Lupin had cared about his father. They had to care about him too.

He took a deep breath, and repaired the quill with a thought. He had to try. He dipped the tip in the ink, forced himself to ignore the way it was shaking, and started to write.

* * *

Remus sat in what passed for a park in central Birmingham. The moon hung in the night sky, close enough to full that Remus couldn't ignore the deep itch beneath his skin but he remained still. A few Muggle teens hovered by the entrance, but some primal instinct made them keep walking. Remus settled back against the bench and waited.

Hours passed. Remus burrowed deeper into his threadbare coat, but otherwise didn't move. If he had learned anything over the years it was patience. It wasn't the first night he had waited out here. If it wasn't the last, then so be it.

Then something moved in the shadows.

Remus rested his hand on his wand, but otherwise didn't move. The shape coalesced into an enormous black dog which padded forward and came to a stop just out of arm's reach. Clear grey eyes met Remus', and for the first time in a long time Remus let himself relax.

"You got my message then."

The dog cocked his head to one side, tongue lolling out happily as he nudged Remus' knee with his nose. For a moment it was almost like they were teenagers again, and Remus was watching his friends mess around with their Animagus forms. He smiled, and pushed himself to his feet.

"My flat isn't far. We've got a lot to talk about."

Sirius gambolled around like a puppy as they made their way through the silent streets. Remus couldn't blame him. He got restless enough if he stayed inside for a few days, let alone...

Remus shook himself. If he started thinking about what his friend had endured then he wouldn't get anything done. Sirius paused, ears twitching in his direction, and Remus forced a smile.

"It's nothing. Not far now."

Sirius gave a soft huff, and stuck close to his side for the rest of the way.

It was late enough that even the student that lived above him were quiet. Remus locked the door, and by the time he turned back Sirius was standing in his human form. For a long moment they stared at each other, then Sirius gave a crooked smile.

"Good to see you without bars in the way, Moony."

And in an instant it was like nothing had changed and Remus pulled his friend into a tight hug

Finally, Sirius drew back, and though he was smiling there was a fierce glint in his eye.

"Now," he said. "How are we going to find Harry?"

Remus had expected nothing else, but he had to ask, "Are you sure you don't want to prove your innocence first? If you turn yourself in now-"

"I'll spend weeks stuck in a holding cell while they re-examine all the evidence and argue about whose fault it is that I never got a trial before," Sirius interrupted. "Hell no. They don't need me for that. Harry does."

He looked at Remus although daring him to argue, but Remus just smiled. "I couldn't agree more. Come on, I've got Firewhiskey waiting." He paused. "Perhaps a bath first though."

Sirius barked a laugh, and Remus' smile widened as the world seemed to settle back into place. They would find Harry. Merlin help anyone who got in their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Any feedback would make an awesome birthday present! ;)

**Author's Note:**

> I now have a tumblr for my fanfics: https://izzyaro.tumblr.com. Feel free to drop by with any questions, or just to chat about any of my stories!


End file.
